The Empty Vase
by Joustingforcancer
Summary: Keona grew up an orphan, making a living off of petty crime. When a personal tragedy shatters his life, and he finds himself at his breaking point, he is left with two choices. Revenge or redemption. NabikiOC most likely, just for you matchup junkies.
1. A Sinking Ship

I don't blame god. I don't blame my missing parents, or the orphanage that I spent my first ten years in. There's so much responsibility, but only so much accountability. And if no one else is willing to take it, I will. I don't blame god, but that's where it started. Maybe I never believed in god, or maybe I just didn't care. But I prayed one night, when I was sad and lonely, sitting in the orphanage. I prayed for a change. I prayed for a way out. I'd never prayed before in my life, and I think he knew that. I think that's why things got so fucked up. Because he knew I never meant the promises I made him when I asked him to help me.

But there he was, holding out his hand. No one could see it but me. When the field trip bus left for Tokyo that day, I knew that he was holding his hand out to me, showing me the way out. And I took it. When the bus stopped in front of the Juuban Historical Museum, I took a left turn out the doors and ran as fast as I could. They couldn't catch me. No one can catch me when I start running. I can outrun anything; even myself. I ran until all I saw was people everywhere. I lost myself in them, and in time, I found a place to call home. A place where no one cared who you were, or where you came from, as long as you fit the mold. I fit the mold. And I found a family of sorts. A good young woman and her younger brother who took me in like I was their own flesh and blood.

They were running too, in some way or another. We're all running from something. But now I can't run anymore. I've done bad things. I've hurt people, and I've hurt myself, and I don't know how to reconcile the face in the mirror with the kid I used to be. I don't think, if I had my ten year old self sitting in front of me, that I could look him in the eye. He'd be ashamed of me; of what I've done.

So here I sit...in a dingy apartment in north Juuban, with a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and a Glock 17 in the other. I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet. I'm not drunk enough to decide. The bottle reaches my lips, and I can feel the tears squeezing out of my closed eyes as the bitter taste of losing everything washes over my tongue and burns it's way down my throat. I'd give anything to have those moments back. In the blink of an eye, a life can be taken, a light snuffed out. A light in the darkness; my guiding light. And it was my fault.

My every breath is saturated with bourbon, and I close my eyes again, as the gun replaces the bottle. I can feel the proof of my guilt coursing down my cheeks, and my right leg is shaking violently. Even after everything that's happened, I still fear death. I'm still afraid of the unknown. I've been there before, but I still haven't made the final crossing. And it frightens me.

_**BANG BANG BANG**_

"Hey, Keona, you in there?"

Fuck...Takai is out there. The gun goes on the small folding metal table next to my stained, ratty old lazy boy. Don't even know what color the fucking thing used to be. Another swig of whiskey to help the equilibrium, and I'm on my way to the door. I unbolt the door, and unlock the chain, and turn the knob lock. Cracking the door open, I stare through what I'm sure are dark-rimmed, sunken eyes. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Aiko sent me over to check on you man. You okay?" Takai is a fuck...a useful fuck, but a fuck nonetheless. Still, he's a friend, and he's one of the few I've got left. He's short...about five eight, so he has to look up to me. His eyes are a little too close together, and they're a shade of shit-brown that makes you suspicious as soon as you see em'. His nose is a little too big, and his mouth a little too small. Sitting atop that ugly mug is a slicked back mass of greasy black hair. He's not the best looking guy in the world. But he speaks perfect English, and he's a hell of a singer...and not by Japanese standards. Women love him despite his ugliness.

I open the door, and invite him inside. He takes one step in, and steps right back out. "What the fuck, Keona? Smells like a fucking moonshine still in there. You been hittin' the sauce a little hard the last couple weeks haven't ya?"

I sit back down in my recliner, and I notice his eyes traveling to the handgun next to the chair. "Why do you care. I drink. So what? I've always drank."

"Not like this Kiki. You're drinking yourself to death man. You're gonna kill yourself one of these days if you don't slow the fuck down!" His voice is plaintive, his expression desperate. He's really reaching out here...literally, his hands are reaching out to me, beseeching. It's almost like a fucking intervention...just without the therapy and the forced treatment. I'm so touched that I _just_ manage not to laugh at his last sentence. If he only knew. "C'mon man, if you're gonna get smashed, at least do it in the proper venue, with other people around to roll you over so you don't drown in your own vomit. This is bullshit man. C'mon."

I roll my eyes, and shake my head drunkenly. "I'm fine where I am, Taki."

"It's Takai, you drunk fuck! Now get up, you're coming with me." He gestures for me to get up out of the chair. Too drunk to argue anymore, I just stand up and follow, making sure to tuck my Glock into the waistband of my baggy black pants. I'm about to follow him out the door, when he looks at me as if I'm a lunatic. "Shower first, Kiki. You stink."

I shrug my shoulders and head back to the bathroom. "Brew me some coffee while I'm washin' up." I call over my shoulder.

His response floats through the apartment to me as I'm closing the door to my tiny bathroom. "You know, the only thing you get when you give a drunk coffee is a wide awake drunk."

I don't respond, but instead turn my attention to the mirror. I do look like shit. I shake my head, and start with brushing my teeth. It's easy to lose yourself in the small daily rituals that you go through. It's easy for the mind to wander. It's easy. But not for me. My mind stays focused. And as I continue to look in the mirror, it's not me I see anymore. Fresh tears come, and I look at the face staring back at me, pain and sorrow etched on his face. My brother. Or the closest thing I ever had to one. Yes...I'm focused.

* * *

Soun Tendo sat in the Krazy Kat strip club in downtown Juuban, drowing his sorrows in cheap alcohol, cheap cigarettes and relatively cheap women. His plan to unite the schools was falling apart, and he didn't know what to do anymore. He and Genma had tried everything. It was clear that Ranma and Akane had feelings for each other, but they'd been unable to get either of them to admit it to the other. He thought back to the wedding, just two weeks past. Ranma and Akane were being civil to each other now, and seemed to be growing closer, but the wedding had shaken his faith in the whole thing. He knew who was responsible too. His middle daughter, Nabiki.

He had tried to berate her for it afterward, but she'd quickly pointed out to him that he had no place to question her when his actions of the past ten years were held to light. He was ashamed of himself, and he hated to admit it. He was defeated, and he didn't know where to go from here. He couldn't teach anymore. He could barely fight. He hadn't trained seriously since...since then.

He poured another dish of cheap sake down his throat, and gazed up at the stripper shaking her naked ass in front of him. He appraised it with an objective eye, and then decided that it couldn't compare. He didn't know why he came to these places. He spent the whole time comparing these women to his beloved, and finding all of their flaws. Perhaps their flaws mirrored his own in some way.

He became aware of a presence on his right as he poured another dish of sake. He glanced over, and found his new viewing company to be two young men. The first was a short, scrawny, ugly man wearing a pair of faded jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. The other was taller, perhaps Soun's height, with black hair shorn close to the scalp. His face was pale and devoid of emotion, and his eyes had the dark rings of sleep deprivation around them. He wore a pair of baggy tan khaki's and a white t-shirt with a nice looking black leather jacket over it. It was the eyes themselves though, that Soun really noticed. Green, like emeralds, and dark with raw emotion. Here was a fellow mourner, Soun knew. A kindred spirit who felt the pain of loss as keenly as he did. He could always spot them. They knew each other instantly. Suffering is a bond that transcends all bounds of class and ethnicity, religion and creed.

He nodded his head to the young man, and the young man nodded back. Soun picked up his bottle and dish, and his pack of cigarettes and walked around the ugly man to sit next to the other young man. "Hello." He said, as he pulled a cigarette from his pack. The young man nodded again, a bit uncomfortably, this time, and Soun pulled another cigarette from his pack. "Smoke?" The kid looked at it for a moment, then nodded his head and slowly reached out and took it.

Placing the smoke between his lips, the kid said, "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Replied Soun, holding up his lighter for the kid. The kid lit the cigarette and gave the lighter back. He looked up at the stripper, and then over at the bottle of sake. He began looking around for a waitress, when Soun decided to give the kid a drink on him. He poured some sake in the dish, and set it down in front of the kid. "Here...I've had a good head start. I've got to be getting home soon anyway."

The kid nodded his head and tossed back the sake. Setting the dish down, he said, "Thanks." He took a drag of his cigarette, and held it in for a moment. He looked up at the stripper and blew the smoke out. "I'm Keona."

"Tendo Soun." He cocked his head to the left, and said, "What's your family name son?"

Keona shrugged. "Don't know. I'm an orphan. My parents just dropped me at the orphanage doors and took off."

Soun nodded his head. An orphan's life was a hard one. "How did you get your name then? It isn't Japanese."

Keona smirked, and took another drag of his smoke. "One of the women working at the orphanage was half-Hawaiian. She named me. It's a traditional Hawaiian name."

"Do you know what it means?"

Keona shrugged. "Nope. Means something though. Most of them do."

"So they do." Soun poured the young man another drink, and watched as he tossed it back. A moment later, a topless waitress approached them.

"Can I get anything for you gentlemen?" She said in a husky voice.

Keona tossed a few bills on her tray, and said, "Bring me a bottle of Jim Beam and three shot glasses." Turning to Soun, he said, "How 'bout you have a drink on me, Soun?"

Soun gave it a moment's thought, and then decided he could hold off going home a bit longer. This boy seemed like good company, and he didn't have much to look forward to at home. "Why not?"

* * *

Nabiki sat in her bedroom, doing her homework. She'd just finished balancing the monthly budget, and thanks to the wedding fiasco they'd be well in the black for a while to come. That didn't make her feel any less guilty. Her sister had been badly hurt, and could have been killed. And she was still angry at her father and Genma for what they'd done with Ranma's cure. Holding it hostage like that was just wrong. That was his manhood, and because of their selfishness, it was gone forever. She was starting to lose focus on her homework, and decided to stop for the night. She had the rest of the weekend to finish it. School was almost out, and she didn't have anything to worry about. She'd passed. She was about to put on a CD and sit down to read some Manga, when she heard the doorbell ring.

Curious as to who it could be at midnight, she went into the hallway and down to the living room. No one else appeared to be up. The doorbell rang again, and she decided that she'd better answer it before someone else woke up. Like Akane. Hurrying to the front door, she opened it, and her jaw fell open. There was her father, so drunk he could barely stand, being supported on the shoulder of a young man wearing a leather jacket who seemed nearly as drunk as her father.

"What the hell is going on here?" She snapped, incredulous. She had never seen this guy in her life, and he shows up drunk on her doorstep with her almost passed-out father.

"This is the Tendo Dojo, right?" The young man said, squinting his eyes at her.

"It is. And that's my father you're currently holding. Thank you for bringing him home, I can take him from here." She reached out for Soun, and the young man shifted his grip on him to let Nabiki take him. When the young man let go, Soun became a deadweight in her arms, and he slumped to the ground. _Wow daddy, you've put on a few pounds. _She glanced back up at the young man, and said, "Um...do you think maybe you can help me? I'm sorry I was so rude." She looked at him through her eyelashes and bit her lower lip cutely, a hopeful expression on her face. She watched with inner glee as he seemed to melt.

"Oh...uh, yeah...yeah, sure." The young man bent down at the knees and lifted Soun up carefully, carrying him inside the house. As he stepped in the threshold, he heard the revving of an engine, and the squealing of tires. He dropped Soun and whirled around, swaying drunkenly as he did. His eyes widened as he realized that his ride's car was no longer parked in front of the Dojo. "Motherfucker shook on me." He muttered. He turned around and picked Soun up again, looking at Nabiki. "Where to?"

She smiled prettily at him, and said, "Follow me. Keep it quiet though, my two sisters and my brother-in-law are sleeping."

The young man raised an eyebrow, and whispered, "Full house huh?"

Nabiki shrugged and whispered back, "I guess you could say that." She led him to Soun's bedroom, and opened the door for him. The young man walked in and gently laid Soun down on his bed. He immediately rolled over and set to snoring. Nabiki shook her head, a frown of disappointment marring her otherwise beautiful face. "Dammit daddy. You need to pull yourself together." The young man at her side seemed to start slightly at that comment, and she looked at him oddly. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." He answered, a little too quickly. He staggered out of the bedroom and down the hall, towards the stairs. Nabiki looked at her father, shook her head once more, and then went after the young man. He was at the front door when Nabiki caught up to him.

"Hey, didn't your friend take off?" She asked softly.

"Yeah, so what?" He slurred softly.

"So how are you getting home?"

"I'll take a bus." He said in a flat voice.

"You're hammered. You shouldn't even be walking to the bus stop...which is four blocks away, might I add." She debated the wisdom of allowing him to sleep on the couch. Kasumi _was_ the first one up in the morning, and probably wouldn't freak out if she saw him passed out. She put a hand to her forehead, and decided she was going to regret this in the morning. "Look, why don't you go lie down on the couch, and I'll get you some blankets and a pillow. You can crash here tonight, and then catch a bus when you're a little more sober in the morning."

The young man eyed her suspiciously, and she found herself wondering why he would be questioning her motives when he didn't even know her. "Why are you letting me stay here?" He asked, his voice no less suspicious than his gaze.

She sighed, put her hands on her hips and looked at him crossly. "Look, do you want to stay or not. I'm just trying to be nice, because you helped my father home. You're not gonna catch a freebie off of me very often, so take it while you can."

He looked confused at her statement, but shrugged, and kicked his shoes off. Going to the couch, he lied down and waited for her to come back. When she did, he put the pillow behind his head, and draped the blanket over himself. He was about to drift off to sleep, when Nabiki realized that she didn't even know his name. "Wait...before you go to sleep. What's your name?"

"Keona." He murmured softly, as he rolled over, turning his back to her.

"I'm Nabiki." She softly in reply. Standing up, she walked back up to her bedroom and turned off her desk lamp. She wouldn't get any more work done tonight. She stripped down to her panties, and put on an XXL t-shirt with a faded Akira logo on it. Lying down in her bed, she pulled the covers up and snuggled into her pillow. She fell asleep feeling good about herself. She'd done her good deed for the day.

* * *

Few things are more frightening and disconcerting than waking up in a place you don't recognize. A place you've never been before; a place you don't remember getting to. The problem with chronic, heavy drinking is that you don't recover those memories that you lose in the blackout. The last thing I remember is sitting at a table in the back corner of that strip club, with empty bottles all over, laughing at Soun as he keeled over in his chair. The fact that I'm on the couch means I didn't go home with a girl...the fact that there's a rather lovely one with brown hair in a long ponytail standing over me says otherwise.

"Oh my...you're awake." She says.

"Did I sleep with you?" Perhaps not the best greeting, but I want to get it out of the way quick. If I did, I'll need to make a hasty escape. I have no intention of getting caught up in anything serious. My lifestyle just doesn't permit that. It's too dangerous.

Luckily, she doesn't seem offended by the question, and she merely smiles brightly, and says, "Goodness no. But you do smell rather ripe. You haven't been drinking have you?" Her tone is admonishing, and I have to pinch myself to make sure this is real. I'm getting lectured by some girl I don't even know. And I haven't even had sex with her. "You know, drinking is a very self-destructive behavior. You should think about that before you go out and get drunk next time."

Normally I would have told the bitch to shut up. But for some reason, I just can't. I can't even think of her as a bitch. It's really creepy, but I almost appreciate it. I sit up slowly and rub the sleep from my eyes. Yawning loudly, I look around. It's a nice place, well kept, definitely with a woman's touch. And definitely time to go. I stand up, and say, "Tell whoever let me crash here that I said thanks. I've gotta get going. Where am I by the way?"

"Why, you're at the Tendo Dojo, in Nerima. Wouldn't you like to stay for breakfast?" She asks me. This chick is unreal. Pure innocence.

I can't help but smile, but I still have to go. "I'd love to, but I really have to take off. I've got things I've gotta do. You know how it is." Truth be told, I didn't have shit to do. Considering where I was the day before when Takai showed up, I doubt it would have mattered if I did. I just didn't give a shit. Still, it was a good excuse, and one that provoked no questions from a stranger.

"Oh, very well then. Have a good day." She waves as I put my shoes on and step out the front door. I wave back, and trot down the walkway to the sidewalk. I take a right turn, hoping that will take me to a payphone somewhere. The comforting weight of my Glock is still settled in the back waistband of my pants, the grip covered by my jacket. I've heard some weird fucking rumors about Nerima and it's crazy martial artists, and I don't know if they're true or not. I know a fair amount of martial arts.; nothing fancy, just the things I need to know. I'm not worried about all kinds of nifty kicks and shit. I'm interested in putting my opponent down hard and fast. Of course, while martial arts is great for that, that's really why I have a gun. In north Juuban, that's the quickest way to put someone down.

I finally find a payphone outside this little okonomiyaki joint called Ucchan's. Dropping a coin in, I call Aiko's cell phone. I know she'll already be up by this point. She answers after the second ring, her voice brisk and businesslike. "Hotatsu Aiko."

"Aiko, it's me, Kiki." I say, my voice subdued and quiet. I'm a bit hung over, and talking too loud makes the headache worse.

I hear her breathing evenly for a moment, and then she says softly, "Where are you kiddo?"

"I'm down in Nerima...by some place called Ucchan's. It's a resaurant." I hold the phone receiver away from my mouth, and spit, trying to get the bitter aftertaste of slept off alcohol out of my mouth. I'm unsuccessful, as I knew I would be.

"Alright, I'm coming down. I'll be there in about a half hour. Be watching for me." She ends the call, and I hang up the payphone. Feeling my stomach roiling, I realize that I'd drank on an empty stomach the night before. Deciding that since I'll be waiting a while, I might as well get some food, I turn and go inside. I take a seat at a table, and almost instantly a pretty-looking little thing in a flowery kimono appears next to my table from out of nowhere, a pen and pad in her hand.

"May I take your order sir?" She asks.

"Um, yeah...whatever your special is, I'll take two of those. And some black coffe."

She frowned cutely, and said, "Oh, I'm sorry sir. We don't have coffee."

Sighing, I shrug my shoulders, and mumble, "I'll have a coke then."

"Two specials and a coke. Right away sir." When she said right away, she wasn't kidding. I'm sitting here less than a minute later with two of the best looking okonomiyaki I've ever seen sitting in front of me. The first bite is heaven. I haven't had okonomiyaki this good since...well, ever really. I finish my meal slowly, and slurp down the last of my coke just as I see Aiko's dark blue sedan pull up outside. I leave payment and a healthy tip for the waitress and the cook, and get up to leave. When I get in Aiko's car, I take one look and know that I've disappointed her again. I always feel bad when that happens. It seems to happen so often these days.

"You've got to stop doing this to yourself Kiki. I know Yasuo's death hurt...and I know you're angry about what happened. But you can't do this." She means well. She really does. I know this. That doesn't make it anymore welcome.

"Fuck you Aiko. You don't know shit. You don't even know what happened." I mutter, turning to stare out the window.

She begins driving, and I can hear the hurt in her voice, as she says, "Then why don't you tell me Keona. Why don't you tell me what happened. Because I thought I was there in the ambulance when you were choking on your own blood, and I thought you were going to die just like Yasuo." Her voice is breaking now, and I can't look at her. My face is burning with shame at her words. "I was there at the hospital, and I was the one who told you that Yasuo didn't make it. So don't tell me I don't know."

She falls silent, and I can't think of anything to say in response to that. She's right. She's absolutely right. She was there. And even if the bullets hadn't ripped through her chest, she'd still felt the same pain. Yasuo was her brother, her real one. Not some street kid who hung around her house all the time when they were growing up. She practically raised us both. And now her real brother is dead, and I'm the only one she's got left. It should have been me. But I can't say it.

"Kiki...I love you. I love you like I love Yasuo, you know that. You will always be a little brother to me, and I'll never regret taking you in. What I regret is not watching you two better. I regret you and Yasuo making the friends that you did. I wish that I could change all of that. But I can't. It happened, for better or for worse, and there's nothing anyone can do about it. But you need to realize that it's not your fault." She pulls up to a red light, and looks at me sadly, her eyes watery, her voice soaked with tears and sorrow. "You didn't pull the trigger, Kiki."

"Sure I did Aiko." I whisper, looking back out the window. "Just not at him."

She sits quietly, not knowing how to take that. She knows what Yasuo and I do...what I do. She hates it. She says it's a dead end. I don't care. My life is a dead end anyway. There's nowhere to go from here, and I've known that for a long time. This is just the culmination of ten wasted years, the final approach to the violent end that I've been waiting for since Yasuo and I first met Takeda-san when we were fourteen.

I swallow tears of bitter anger as I remember the honeyed lies he poured into our ears. Money, women, power, respect. All of it could be ours. We just had to do a few things for him. It started out with small things, running messages around to people, things like that. Then he gave us the real test. He gave us weed...not to smoke (although we did), but to sell at our school. We passed with flying colors. I knew who the potheads were, so it was easy to get rid of. After that, it was crazy. He floated us the first quarter-pound when we were fifteen. That's a lot of dank.

We bagged it up small, eighth-ounce baggies, twenty sacks, and dime sacks. No one in high school has enough to buy any bigger than an eighth. We sold it all, paid Takeda-san what we owed him, and then re-upped on some with another quarter-pound float. We kept doing that until we had enough after sales to re-up on a quarter-pound without getting a front on the dope. It was easy money.

From there, we graduated to slinging speed, and eventually cocaine by the time we were seventeen. Aiko tried to stop us, tried to talk us out of it, but she was working all the time and couldn't watch us. She kept threatening to turn us in, but she could never follow through. She just doesn't have the heart. So we kept serving. And this is how it ends. It'd always been a violent game, a scary one. I'd been beaten up, jumped, stabbed in the thigh once. Whatever. When they hit me and Yasuo outside his house, that was it. It hurt like nothing I've ever felt; as only a molten hot slug ripping through your flesh can. But it hurt worse when I woke up at the hospital, when Aiko told me that Yasuo had died before the ambulance arrived.

That had been two months ago. I was pretty much healed. Somehow, the four bullets that had struck my torso had missed everything but the bottom of one lung. Yasuo had been hit twice in the right leg, and once in the head. The black car that had carried the gunmen had sped off, tires squealing, leaving me bleeding, face down in the front yard.

"I wish you could find something to pull yourself out of this. I wish there was something I could do for you Kiki. But I can't do anymore. I'm dropping you off at your apartment, and then I'm going back to work. When you're ready to be human again, give your big sister a call. I'll be waiting." She's quiet for the rest of the ride, leaving me to think about her words. I know what can pull me out of this. I know what to do for myself. And for Yasuo.

* * *

Nabiki woke up to the familiar sounds of the Saotome's morning sparring match going on in the back yard. She blinked her eyes sleepily, then groaned and put her pillow over head. It was Saturday. There was no need for this kind of torture. She was about to drift back off to sleep, when she suddenly remembered her young houseguest downstairs. "Keona!" Hoping nothing bad had happened, she threw on a pair of pajama bottoms and hurried to the living room. She found Kasumi reading a Cosmo, drinking tea. "Hey sis? Did you by chance see anyone when you came downstairs?"

Kasumi set her cup down and said, "Oh, you mean that nice young man on the couch? Oh yes. He was very polite, but he absolutely reeked of alcohol. Very unseemly for such a young man." She shook her head, and took a sip of her tea. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if he was still here. I wanted to thank him again, for bringing father home last night." She said.

"Well, that explains things. I'm sorry though. He left just after he woke up. I'm afraid he didn't leave a name either."

Nabiki blinked, and said, "Keona. His name is Keona."

"Hm...what an unusual name. I like it." Kasumi prolaimed, before going back to her tea and her magazine.

Nabiki sighed and stood up. "Well sis, I'm going to go take a bath. You might want to wake daddy up soon. He'll probably want some of your hang over tea and something to eat."

Kasumi nodded absently, caught up in reading her magazine. Nabiki looked at her for a moment, waiting for some other kind of response. When none was forthcoming, she turned and went to the bathroom. Stepping into the changing room, she quickly disrobed, putting her clothes and dirty underwear in the dirty clothes hamper. Gathering her bathing supplies, she stepped into the bathing room. Akane was sitting in the furo, soaking, and waved in greeting to her big sister. "Morning Nabiki."

"Morning Akane." Nabiki replied. She sat down on a stool and filled a bucket with cold water, before dumping it on herself. She hurriedly washed herself and rinsed off, then stepped gratefully into the inviting warmth of the furo. "So what are you up to today?"

Akane shrugged, and said, "I don't know. I was thinking of seeing if Ranma wanted to go to the park and have a little picnic. Kasumi's food of course." She passed her hand over the surface of the water, watching the tiny eddy's and swirls it created. "The other girls have been staying away, and I'm not really worried about his rivals right now."

Nabiki was surprised at her sister, and said, "Just don't be surprised if he acts like an ass. And don't overreact. He really is a sweet guy. He just needs to be shown that he can trust you emotionally."

"Wow Nabiki, when did you become the relationship expert?" Akane asked with no malice in her voice.

"I figure I'm uniquely qualified to speak on emotional trust issues. I seem to have so many of them myself." She giggled a little, and Akane did too, but they both knew it wasn't funny. "I guess one of these days I'll follow my own advice."

"It'll come Nabiki. But you're right...it might help if you thawed out a little when you were in public." Akane felt bad for her sister. She'd never had anyone look at her as anything other than a sex object or a money machine. She'd kind of forced herself into that position, but she was still family, and it hurt to see her hurting. "Kasumi said we had a houseguest this morning." She said, shifting Nabiki's focus from her negative thoughts.

"Oh, yeah. This guy named Keona. He brought daddy home last night. Daddy was pretty trashed. It was bad."

Akane raised an eyebrow. "So why did _Keona_ stay the night then?"

Nabiki was forced to laugh as she recalled the look of drunken incredulity on the handsome face as he'd watched his ride drive away. "His ride ditched him when he walked in the door with daddy, so I made him sleep here. He was pretty drunk too." Akane looked scandalized, and Nabiki said, "What! He slept on the couch, I promise!"

A sly grin spread across Akane's face, and she said, "Was he cute?"

"Oh come off it Akane, he was drunk!"

"Drunk or not, he can still be cute." Akane leaned towards her sister, her expression eager. "So was he?"

Nabiki sighed and rolled her eyes. She splashed a little water at Akane to get her to back off, and then said, "Yeah, I guess so. He looked like he hadn't slept in days though." She grinned as she thought back to when he'd told her his name. "Actually, I think he'd have been a total hottie if he'd have been sober and had a little extra sleep. And maybe some more meat on him. He looked a little malnourished." She shrugged, and said, "But yeah, other than that I guess he was cute."

Akane giggled, and said, "Sounds like somebody's got a crush."

"Don't be ridiculous Akane. I barely said twenty words to the guy." Nabiki said testily.

"I'm just kidding sis, jeez. Don't get so uptight."

Nabiki leaned her head back on the edge of the furo and closed her eyes. Her voice soft, she said, "I don't see why it matters. It's not like I'll ever see him again anyway." Her sister's voice was gentle and sweet when it reached her ears.

"You never know, 'Biki. You never know."


	2. Second Impressions

Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma, that belongs to the female Bill Gates of Japan. I do own Keona, Takai, and pretty much anything in the story not found in Ranma. Except for like, Juuban and Shinjuku. I don't own those either. Although it'd cool if I could buy them someday.

Also, please post reviews after you read. Even if it's just a one time thing, I'm cool with that. Let me know where I stand. Now, on with the story.

_**Riiing...riiiing**_

"What the fuck?" Takai pulled the phone from the receiver and looked sleepily at the clock. 1:43 AM. Putting the phone to his ear, he said, "Who is this?"

"Hey man, it's Kiki. I need your help."

Takai groaned, and rolled over on his back. The girl next to him snuggled up to him, and he put his free arm around her. "You do realize it's quarter to fucking two in the morning, don't you?" Takai heard silence on the other end, a silence that stretched so long he thought Keona might have hung up. "Kiki? You still there?" He said, debating on whether or not to hang up himself.

"You do realize that you left me at some strange person's house in Nerima at fucking midnight last night, don't you?"

Takai pulled the receiver away from his mouth and sighed. He knew that was going to come up. "Look man, I'm sorry, okay? I mean, what can I say? I was fucked up."

The voice on the other end of the line grew cold. "You owe me for that shit, motherfucker. You never know what could have happened. You just fucking shook on me, and if you don't get your ass over here right now you're going to be fucked up, you hear me?"

Rising to a sitting position, Takai said, "Yeah, yeah, okay. I'll be there in half an hour."

"Fifteen minutes." **_Click._**

Takai stood up and put on a pair of gray sweat pants. Picking up his Colt 9mm automatic, he tucked it into the front waistband of his pants. Next came a long-sleeved white t-shirt, to cover the colorful tattoos that ran all over his torso and arms. He didn't have anything short-sleeved. He hadn't in years. Putting on a gray hooded sweatshirt, he slipped on a pair of socks and some white tennis shoes. As he was lacing them up, the girl in his bed sat up. "Baby, where're you going? It's two in the morning."

Looking over his shoulder at her, he said, "Friend has a flat tire. Go back to sleep." He stood up and exited the room without waiting for a response, and walked through the hallway to the garage. He pulled his keys off the pegboard just inside the garage door, and then got in his car. Starting up the engine, he sat and waited for the car to warm up. Leaning his head against the backrest, he hoped that whatever Keona had called him for was worthwhile. He'd be pissed if it was some bullshit.

* * *

Takai is going to think this is bullshit. I know it. Still, I've got business to take care of, and now's as good a time as any. Besides, he really does owe me for taking off like that. Now _that_ was some bullshit. I've been waiting patiently for twenty-four minutes. I said fifteen. I meant fifteen. I'm about to pick up my cell and call him again, when someone finally knocks on the door. I grab my pistol and walk to the door. Putting my eye briefly to the eyepiece, I find that it is indeed Takai. I tuck my gun into the back waistband of my pants and I unlock the door and step into the hallway, locking it behind me. "'Bout fucking time Taki."

"You know, I really hate it when you call me that. Taki is a girl's name."

I don't bother pointing out that Kiki is a girl's name too, but he and just about everyone else has been calling me that since I arrived in Tokyo. It's not a big deal. "Whatever Taki. Show up on time, and I won't call you that." I smirk as he grimaces at me.

"You know, I told you half an hour for a reason."

"You told me half an hour because you're a slow fuck and you like to drag ass. It takes twenty-five minutes to get here in traffic, Taki. It was about two when you left, right?" Seeing Takai nod, I say, "Where's the fucking traffic?" I swat him upside his head, and say, "Next time I say fifteen minutes, be here in fifteen fucking minutes."

He rolls his eyes and throws his hood up as we walk out of the building and into the parking lot. "So what are we doing? Why did you call me?"

"Just got a call on my cell from Toji. Got this cat over in Shinjuku, hangin' at that new club, Pharoah's. He owes me almost two hundred thousand yen." I smirk, knowing that I've already pissed him off just by calling him late. He's going to be even angrier now.

"What the fuck? A goddamn collections run? That's it? You call me and wake me up at quarter to fucking two in the morning, and make me come all the way over here...for a fucking collections run?" Takai shakes his head, glaring at me, and a breath hisses out through clenched teeth. "You know, you need to get your own damn car Kiki."

I smirk at him, but don't respond. He knows he fucked up the other night. He also knows that if he wasn't such a close friend, I'd have beat his ass for it. He's getting off really easy. I get in the passenger side of his little white '91 Toyota Celica. He turns the car on, and an American punk band called Bad Religion comes on the tape player. The song is called "Suffer". As I listen to the lyrics, I'm forced to agree with everything the singer says. The masses of humanity have always had to suffer...will always have to suffer. I just wish they were all suffering with me right now.

My mind turns back to that awful day, two months ago. I've seen death before. You can't be involved with the people I'm involved with and not see death. Murders happen, "accidents" happen. It's just a part of the life. I accept that. But that day was different. The car was new, and black. The windows were tinted, and I remember thinking it odd that the headlights were off, despite the fact that it was just after sunset. Not quite dark, but dark enough that it was illegal to drive lights-out. That's when it hit me. They're not even going the speed limit. I was standing by the front door, and Yasuo was down on the sidewalk, walking towards the front yard.

I saw the passenger side windows of the car roll down, and I knew what was happening, even before I saw the MP5's. I tried to call out to Yasuo, but he just looked at me. I didn't see him get hit. I got hit first. I guess it was because I already had my gun in my hand. I didn't get a chance to fire it though. I only remember the first bullet hitting. It shattered through my lower right ribcage, and richoted downward, taking off a chunk of my right lung about the size of a golf ball and perforating it in several other places with slivers of bone. The other ones...I didn't even realize I'd been hit again. I just felt that first one, and the next thing I knew, I was face down on the ground.

There had been others around when the shooting happened. There were kids playing outside, and their parents watching. People walking along the sidewalk. People sitting on their porches, sipping tea and talking with neighbors and each other. I heard screams first, then yelling. Hurried footsteps as people rushed over once the car was gone. No but me and Yasuo were hit, Aiko told me that. But they still got the wrong guy. I know who that drive-by was meant for, and it wasn't Yasuo. I should have died that day, in the ambulance. But I was lucky. Only one lung hit, all my other vitals untouched. A lung shot and three wicked flesh wounds.

I clench my fist and grit my teeth, anger burning through me like a cleansing conflagration, taking the last of my weakness with it. As we pull up outside the club, I look over at Takai, and say, "You coming with or staying here? And if you stay in the car, you'd best be here when I come out."

"I'm comin' in, I'm comin' in. Just a second." He turns the car off and gets out, he pulls a comb out of his pocket and begins running it through his sleep-mussed hair. "Maybe I should start cutting my shit short like yours. This is a pain in the ass." He mutters to me as we walk up to the line at the door. We could just bypass the bouncer. Takeda-san's boys can do that here. But I decide to just wait in line. If we stand out here, and the guy doesn't come out, then we can get him when we get inside. If he does come out, we can do this in a less public venue than the club. Which would be preferable. Unfortunately, when this guy parties, he parties hard. He'll probably be in there till the place shuts down at four thirty.

Glancing up at the faux-Egyptian exterior, I shudder at the place I'm about to enter. I hate dance clubs. I really hate dance clubs.

* * *

Nabiki sat in the large booth with three of her friends and two of their boyfriends. Glancing over at Naomi, she smiled, and received a smile in return. At least there was someone else here to be single with. The ladies had just finished a long session on the dance floor, and Nabiki was feeling quite warm. She took a sip of her Long Island Iced Tea and felt the rush of alcohol to her head, as well as the rush of cold liquid down her throat. She looked over at Naomi, and shouted, "So who was that guy you were dancing with? He was cute!"

Naomi grinned, her head bobbing to the near-deafening American rap music as she leaned towards Nabiki and shouted back, "I don't know, but he's sitting over at the bar right now! I was thinking of going and talking to him...after another drink!" They both laughed at that, and Nabiki sighed internally, seeing her last single friend slipping steadily away. She needed a boyfriend. That was the problem. Unfortunately, no one had really "tripped her trigger" yet.

Nabiki stood up, and shouted, "Hey, I'm going to go down and dance some more! You wanna come?" Receiving a negative shake of the head from all of her friends, she smoothed down her short plaid miniskirt and her white button down shirt, which was tied in a knot under her breasts. She liked the European schoolgirl look when she went out, and apparently so did the guys. Thanks to her fake ID, and this skirt, she had drawn more than her share of good-looking young men. None of them had lasted past the first night though, and she wasn't particularly hopeful that she'd actually find anything meaningful here. She'd slowly begun figuring out that a nightclub wasn't the best place to meet your prospective future love.

She was about to step on the dance floor for the third time that night, when she spotted a familiar face walking past her. She looked at the young man as he went by, studying his features, when she realized who it was. "Keona!" How he heard her over the thumping bass of Dr. Dre's "Let Me Ride", she had no idea, but hear her he did. His head snapped around, and he gazed directly at her, no recognition on his face. He stared at her for a moment, and then gave her a quick once over. When his gaze returned to hers, he flashed her a bright smile, and then turned his attention forward again. Following him was a skinny, kind of ugly little man wearing a gray sweatsuit. Keona looked much better than he had last night, like he'd slept some. She tracked his progress with her eyes, and found herself intrigued when he stopped at her table.

She decided that this was more interesting than dancing, and began walking back to the table, trying to pick out any words. Keona was having an animated conversation with Sachiko's boyfriend, a nineteen year old frat boy and one of the rising stars on Tokyo University's baseball team. Why Keona would be talking to him, she didn't know. When she got to the table, she heard Keona shouting over the music, "Then get up and come with me! We need to have a little talk, and I don't think you wanna have it in front of these nice folks!"

The boyfriend, Ryoichi, or Ryo for short, shook his head, a smug grin on his face, and said, "You can come back later man! See those guys over there?" He pointed to a table near the dance floor, and said, "Those are a bunch of my teammates! Counting me and Kaneda here, there's eleven of us! I think you're at a slight disadvantage here Keona!"

Nabiki watched with interest as Keona slowly licked his lips, then cocked his head to the left. She was in the process of sitting down when his hand went behind his back, underneath that nice leather jacket. She nearly fell down when it came back with a pistol in it. Ryo's eyes went wide, and he tried to scramble backwards, but was hemmed in by his girlfriend and Kaneda. Keona grabbed Ryo's hair and slammed his face into the table top. He kept it there, putting his body weight on Ryo's left cheek.

Pressing the gun to Ryo's temple, he bent low and began shouting in his ear, "I want my fucking money, you hear me? You're into me for two hundred thousand yen worth of fucking blow you stupid jock! Interest is beginning to build up, and pretty soon there's gonna be no way to pay me! We don't want that, now do we?"

Nabiki was about to ask what the hell he was talking about. This was a shock. This guy was a cocaine dealer. He'd slept at her house last night, and now he had a gun against a guys head, demanding two hundred thousand yen! This was insane!

"I can't pay you right now, okay!" Ryo shouted, his voice panicked. "I just don't have the money!"

"You better fucking get it, and get it fast! You don't get me that money in a fucking week, I'll make sure you never pitch again, you understand me?" Ryo nodded his head frantically, whimpering fearfully now. "Good! T, cover these motherfuckers!" Keona tucked his gun back into the waistband of his pants, and searched quickly through Ryo's pockets. Finding his wallet, he removed what looked like a large wad of cash and several credit cards. Holding the cards up, he said, "Ryo, my man...these cards still good?"

"Yeah, of course! No limit, I pay out monthly from my trust fund!" Ryo looked up at Keona hopefully, and Keona smirked.

"Trust fund huh?" Turning to his ugly friend, Keona chuckled and said, "You hear that T? This cat's got a trust fund!" Looking back at Ryo, his expression turned mean. "So you must have some fucking money somewhere! Maybe I should just shoot you in the shoulder right now!" He stuffed the money and cards in his pockets and pulled out his gun again. "Maybe you should just...dip into that little trust fund and pay me! You gotta have enough in there!"

"What about the cards? You took my credit cards! That's worth way more than just two hundred thou!"

"It's the principal of the thing! Think of the cards and cash as...interest! For lying to me!"

Ryo's eyes were wide and unblinking, and he realized he'd been caught. Nabiki stared at him, unable to believe he'd been stupid enough to try and hold out on a dealer. She began to back slowly away from the booth, hoping she wasn't going to see what she thought she was. She understood what these guys were then. Coke dealers got their coke from one place: the Yakuza.

Her heart began hammering in her chest as Keona's pistol was brought to bear on Ryo's face. She tried to close her eyes, but she couldn't. As many crazy things as she'd seen since Ranma came to town, it had never involved guns. And she'd never seen anyone killed. Supposedly, Akane had died at Jusendo, yet she was still alive. No one had ever died before. She was frozen with fear.

* * *

Now, I know that I'm not gonna shoot this asshole. Not here. As of yet, no one has really noticed what's going on, and I want to keep it that way. I look over at the chick I saw on the dance floor. She seems to be with these people. Somehow, she knows my name. She's also vaguely familiar, but I don't know where I've seen her. Must have met her at a party or something. Although, she looks a little too young and upper-middle class to be partying with my crowd.

Deciding to get it over with, I look back at Ryo. "One week, bitch! One week, or say goodbye to baseball!" I draw back with my pistol, and whip it hard across his cheekbone. He grunts, and slumps back against his girlfriend, who looks like she's about to scream. I tuck my gun into the waistband of my pants and sniff disdainfully at them. I love that word. Disdainfully. It's one of my personal favorites.

Feeling fairly good for the first time in a while, I look over at the girl who knows my name and step close to her. "How do you know my name?" I ask her. It's a reasonable first question.

She looks a little nervous, and she keeps looking between me and Ryo. She backs up a little, and shouts back, "You brought my dad home drunk last night! I let you sleep on my couch!"

"Oh! I remember waking up, but I'm afraid everything before that is kind of a...well it's not there! I didn't do anything," I fumble for a word for a moment, and then say, "inappropriate, did I?"

She laughs, and it's a pleasant sound. Well, what I can hear of it over the music. She shouts, "I'm Nabiki!"

I step close to her again, so I don't have to yell as loud. "I'm Keona. But friends call me Kiki."

She laughs again, and says, "Kiki? Isn't that a girls name?"

I shrug, and say, "So?" It honestly just never bothered me.

She seems surprised by my reaction, and says, "Most guys would get really pissed off if someone called them that."

I smirk, and say, "Most guys are stupid." Saying shit like that always seems to score points with the ladies. Besides that, it's probably true. "So how old are you?" I ask, fairly certain she's not old enough to be in here.

"Twenty." she replies. I'd call bullshit, but I don't think that would endear me to her much. "Why, how old are you?" She asks me.

"Twenty." I answer, honestly. I tilt my head just slightly to the left, and run the tip of my tongue lightly over my lips. Women have told me I have a beautiful mouth. I guess that's a good thing. She gives me a good once over, and then smiles. Just like I'd done on the dance floor. My face splits in an ear to ear grin, which I hope is a dazzling one. I look her in the eyes, unblinking, and say, "How 'bout I call you sometime?"

* * *

Nabiki felt a tingling warmth in her lower abdomen, and that sparkling white smile finished the job. This guy was officially hot...dangerous, and hot. The danger only made him even more enticing. He was dangerous in a way that Ranma, Ryoga and the rest of the NWC boy's could never be. When he asked for her number, she just nodded dumbly and reached into the booth for her purse. He held up a hand, and pulled a cell phone from his jacket pocket. "813-2936." she said, her voice soft. She half-hoped that he'd give her his number too, but he put his cell phone away after programming hers in.

"I'll call you." he said, and then he smiled, and turned away, walking back towards the dance floor. His friend tucked his pistol away, and pulled a large billfold out of his pocket. Tossing a couple bills on the table in front of Ryo, he said, "Here you go tough guy. Drown your sorrows on me." Then he too turned away, following Keona away from the table.

She watched them walk away, until Sachiko yelled at her, "Biki, what the hell was that? You gave him your fucking phone number! Did you see what he just did!" Sachiko's pretty face was turning red with anger, and she was holding Ryo's head against her shoulder. He looked pretty dazed, and maybe Sachiko had a right to be angry, but Nabiki brushed it off and stood up.

"Honestly Sachi, if Ryo-chan here is stupid enough to not pay his coke dealer...his _coke dealer_ Sachi, then he deserves what happened to him. Besides, if your boyfriend weren't here, you'd have gone home with that guy if he'd asked." She stood up and looked at Naomi. "I'm leaving. You coming?"

Naomi shrugged her shoulders and said, "Why not?" Grabbing her coat and Nabiki's, she stood up. Nabiki took her coat and put it on, and picked up her purse. Naomi did the same, and said, "See you later guys."

Nabiki didn't bother saying goodbye, instead just turning and walking away. When they stepped outside, she said, "Let's get something to eat. I'm hungry."

Naomi grinned, and said, "Sounds like a plan to me. My car is just around the corner." As they walked to her car, Naomi said, "You know, that might not have been such a good idea."

"What do you mean?" Nabiki replied.

"Giving that guy your phone number. That was...not something the Nabiki I know does."

Nabiki shrugged her shoulders and put her chin up. "Well, that's fine. I decided to do something different." They got to the car, and Nabiki sat down in the passenger seat. "Besides, you have to admit, he was a hottie."

"Yeah, he was. So what was that I overheard about him sleeping at your place last night?" Naomi winked at Nabiki as she started her car.

Nabiki rolled her eyes at her friend. Buckling her seat belt, she said, "Somehow, he and daddy ended up in the same titty bar last night, and daddy got way smashed." Pulling a stick of gum from her purse, she put it in her mouth and began chewing. "So, Keona and a friend of his brought daddy home. Keona's ride ditched him while he was in the house, so I let him crash on the couch."

"You let a cocaine dealer crash on your couch? What were you thinking?"

"I didn't know he was a dealer last night!" Nabiki snapped back. "I wouldn't have let him stay over if I did!"

"Then why'd you give him your number tonight?"

"Because he turned me on, okay?" Nabiki said a little too loudly, her cheeks flushing red. She looked out the window, feeling embarrassed at the admission. Then she heard a giggle come from the drivers seat. Her ears began to burn, as Naomi began giggling softly, obviously trying to contain them.

Nabiki felt a small laugh threatening to burst forth as well, and tried to stifle it. She was successful, until Naomi lost her own battle. The two girls broke into peals of hysterical laughter; the kind of laughter only two slightly drunk teenage girls can produce. When the laughter subsided, Naomi pulled away from the curb and began driving towards their favorite all night burger joint. American food went well with late nights and alcohol.

The ride was in silence, with an old song from the seventies playing. Nabiki recognized the song. "Laura Nyro. Eli's Coming." she said.

"Hm? What was that, Biki?"

"The song. It's called Eli's Coming. It's a Laura Nyro song. My mother used to listen to it." She smiled, humming softly to the melancholy and almost desperate melody of the last minute of the song.

_Eli's comin' better hide your heart girl,_

_Eli's comin' better hide your heart girl,_

Naomi listened, her eyes on the road, and said, "It sounds like she's talking to you. This song was destined to come on at this time. You should be paying close attention to the words."

Nabiki turned a smug smile on her friend and said, "His name's not Eli. It's Keona."

"Nabiki, he pulled a gun on Sachiko's boyfriend."

"Ryo's an idiot, and he treats Sachi like shit."

"It was a gun, Nabiki. No one has guns in Japan. Not even the police. Who has guns here? Think about that." Naomi's voice was insistent, her expression stern. "I'm serious Nabiki, that guy is nothing but trouble. He is bad news for you and for your family if you get involved with him."

Nabiki heaved a put upon sigh and turned her gaze out the window. "Well we better hope he's the love em' and leave em' type then." She said sarcastically.

Naomi took a deep breath and looked at her friend. Nabiki was turned away from her, looking out the window. She turned her gaze back on the road and decided to drop the subject for now. It wasn't going to get resolved tonight, and for some reason, Nabiki had herself dead set against listening to reason tonight. That in itself was odd, because she was usually the most reasonable person around. But she was being completely illogical. The guy had to be Yakuza. Only the military and the Yakuza had guns. Well, a few well-connected street gangs too, but those were few and far between. The Yakuza and the rival Triads held the most sway in the criminal underworld. Everyone knew that, and everyone who had an ounce of brains stayed away from both of them.

They pulled into the parking lot of Dick's, a franchise that had made it's way to Tokyo via Spokane, Washington of all places. Great burgers though. She reached out and put her hand on her friends knee. "C'mon Biki. Let's go eat. We'll forget about the whole guy thing."

Nabiki looked at her and smiled. "Okay. Bacon Cheeseburger?"

"God, how can you eat that junk? I'd get so fat."

"You spend a lot of time running for cover when Ranma's around. It's good exercise."

Naomi, a fellow Furinkan girl, laughed. "Bacon Cheeseburger it is then."

* * *

"What the fuck was that Kiki?" Takai actually sounds kind of pissed off again. I'm not sure why.

"What the fuck was what Taki?" He always gets pissed when I call him that. This is no exception.

He slams on the brakes, and shouts, "That shit with that bitch in the club! What the fuck was that? You just put your gun away and start hitting on some friend of their's? What the fuck were you thinking?"

"You want me to slap you in the fucking face?" I snap at him, staring into his eyes. He slowly shakes his head back and forth, but doesn't respond. He knows he's walking a fine line. "Then shut up. She gave me her number didn't she?"

He opens his mouth to start yelling again, but stops, realizing that she did, in fact, give me her number. He leans back in his seat, and then blows one of those hissing breaths through his teeth. "She did, didn't she?"

"Yeah, she did. So shut up."

Takai shakes his head, and starts laughing. "Man, I don't know what you think is gonna happen there. That girl is so far out of your league man."

That actually kind of stings. It's probably true, but that doesn't make it any less shitty a thing to say. "Man, fuck you. Like you would get anywhere with her. Look at your girl. What is she, a fucking stripper? From downtown?"

"That's what I'm saying though. That's the kind of women we're supposed to be with Kiki. That girl...she's too good for you man."

"Fuck you." That stings too.

"Fuck you, dick. You know I'm right. What can you offer her? You're a fucking drug dealer Kiki, look at yourself."

"Man, I'm just trying to get some pussy. Quit fucking cockblocking. Shit." I'm starting to get sick of him now. "Man, just drop me off here."

"What? We're still in Shinjuku."

"I don't give a fuck. I'm sick of riding with your negative ass. Drop me off right here." I snap, my voice rising.

He glares at me, but pulls the car to the curb. "Fine, here you go. Have fun getting home asshole."

As I'm getting out of the car, I flip him off. I slam his door shut, and he peels out, speeding off towards the freeway. Fuck 'im. Fucking Takai...Taki. Little girly-man always has to have something to complain about. He's right though. I really don't have anything to offer that girl. Nabiki. That's her name. Somehow, I don't think she really has any idea what she did when she gave me her number. As I'm standing there, contemplating Takai's brutally honest assessment of the situation, I catch a faint whiff of french fries. Damn, I haven't eaten in...hours. My stomach rumbles, letting me know that it's long overdue. I follow the enticing scent of deep-fried potatoes until the Shinjuku Dick's Burger comes into view.

It's not far now, so I break into run until I reach the doors. I step inside, and am overwhelmed by the combined scents of flame-broiled beef, grilled onions, frying bacon, and french fries. The faintest hint of mustard hangs in the air as well, just underneath the others, and by this point, I can almost taste my meal. I step up to the register and wait for the bored looking pimple-faced kid behind it to acknowledge me. It takes a moment.

When he does, he looks up and says, "What can I get for you?" His voice is completely monotone, and his face is expressionless.

"Cheeseburger with bacon, grilled onions, hold the lettuce. And uh, extra mayo. And a coke."

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry sir. We ran out of syrup for our coke dispenser."

I sigh, and shake my head. It's like fucking Groundhog's Day...but backwards. "Okay, I'll have some black coffee then." He rings up my meal, and I pay the kid. I take my coffee cup and head over to the beverage machines. As I'm filling my cup with coffee, I hear a girl calling my name.

"Hey, Keona!"

I finish filling my coffee cup, muttering, "You've gotta be kidding me." I turn and look, and sure enough, four booths down is Nabiki and one of her friends, just finishing up their burgers. I smile and wave and begin walking towards them. "Nabiki. Long time no see." She scoots over to make room for me to sit down, which I do. "Thanks."

"So what are you up to?" She asks. It's a silly question considering where we are, but it wouldn't be productive to make her feel like an idiot, so I don't point it out.

"Oh, you know. Just getting some food. Heading home after that." I take a sip of my coffee, and curse under my breath as it burns my tongue.

"Oh." she says. "Where's your friend?"

I shrug my shoulders, and say, "Fuck him. He probably went home."

She started to laugh, saying, "He ditched you? Is this," she suppressed a giggle, and continued on. "Is this the guy who ditched you last night too?" I have to lower my face, and embarrassed smile on my face as I nod my head. Now she does laugh. It's a beautiful sound, throaty and strong. She has a beautiful voice. A bedroom voice.

I look up at her, and say, "So what are you doing tomorrow night?"

She says, "Well, not much, but I've got to work Monday morning."

"Oh really, what do you do?" I ask her, already guessing the answer.

"High school!" Her friend jumps in. Nabiki looks at her and glares.

"Shut up Naomi!"

"What, I'm just telling him, since it didn't seem like you were going to." Turning to me, she said, "She's a senior in high school, and she graduates at the end of next week."

I nod my head, quickly digesting the new information. "So what are you doing next Saturday night?"

"Um, I don't know." She raises an eyebrow at me. "Are you asking me on a date then?"

I look into her eyes, my gaze intense, and I say, "I guess I am. Why don't I call you this week, and we'll figure it out." I stand up and back away from the booth.

"Aren't you going to eat here?" She asks.

"No, I'm taking it to go."

She tilts her head the left, and gives me a smirk and a raised eyebrow. "How are you getting home?"

Her friend, Naomi looks at Nabiki and shakes her no. "Nabiki, he can't ride in my car. I don't have room."

"Sure you do Naomi. You have two more seats in the back." Nabiki smiles frostily at her friend, and then mouths something that I don't pick up.

Naomi groans and then looks at me, and snaps, "No peeing on the upholstery." She gets up and leaves the restaurant, presumably to start her car. I get the impression that she doesn't like me much.

Nabiki says, "We'll be out front. Meet us out there."

I nod my head and watch her walk out. Damn, she is fine. I turn and walk to the register. Looking at the kid, I say, "Hey man, can you get me my food to go please." The kid nods and goes off to do my bidding. A couple minutes later, he comes back with a white foam food container.

He hands it to me, and says, "Have a good night sir."

"Thanks, you too." As I step outside into the cool night air, I take a deep breath, savoring the last remains of my good day. Tomorrow, I go to work finding the man who ordered the drive-by. Tomorrow, I start tracking down Yamada Kenshin's brother. And that begins with Yamada Kenshin. I'd just ask Kenshin where his brother was if I could, and he might have told me with the right amount of persuasion. It's too late for that though. I can't ask Kenshin anything anymore; I already killed him.

* * *

"I'm telling you, I don't want this guy in my car Biki. He scares me."

"Well he doesn't scare me."

"He should. You should be scared of him. He's scary! He carries a gun! He deals drugs! He's a thug!"

Nabiki shrugged her shoulders, going silent. She was done talking about it. Her mind was made up. If the boys at school wouldn't give her a chance, she wouldn't give them one. At furinkan, she was a big fish in a small pond. She had no idea what this guy's world was really like, and frankly, she was fascinated by him already. She noticed him approaching, and said, "You should stop talking shit now. He's coming."

Naomi shut up, but continued fuming. Keona got in behind Nabiki. Naomi looked back at him and forced a smile on her face. "So, where to?"

"North Juuban. Katsuhara Projects, building C." He said. Naomi looked at Nabiki, her frown deepening. Katsuhara was the worst housing project in Tokyo, sitting on the far northeast corner of the greater North Juuban area. North Juuban in general was known for it's seediness, and for it's violent atmosphere, but Katsuhara was place that even the thugs from North Juuban avoided. "Problem?" Keona said, his tone amiable.

"Not at all." Nabiki replied for her friend. "Katsuhara Projects, building C."

"Thanks for the ride." Keona smiled at Nabiki, and she felt her heart flutter at the sight.

She smiled back, and said, "No problem. Just don't forget to call me this week."

"How could I?" The rest of the drive passed without conversation, the only sound being the radio playing softly in the background. When they arrived at his apartment building, he got out of the car and leaned down towards Nabiki's window. She rolled it down, and said, "See you later."

"See you later." Leaning down a little, Keona tossed a little wave to Naomi. "Thanks for the ride. Just keep on driving straight down this road, don't turn until you leave the projects. When you get to a stop sign, coast through slow, but don't stop completely. You ladies have a nice evening." Looking back at Nabiki, he said, "Goodnight. I'll call you soon, okay?" He reached up and brushed his fingers across her cheek, and then backed away from the car. Nabiki looked over her shoulder at him as Naomi pulled away from the curb. He was still watching. He stood there until they reached the end of the street, and the she saw him turn towards his building.

Looking at Naomi, Nabiki said, "He watched us drive away."

"So?"

"So that means he likes me. Guys don't do that unless they like you."

Naomi rolled her eyes, and said, "You're crazy Biki. I still say the guy is dangerous."

Nabiki giggled and said, "That's part of the attraction. Now hurry up and get me home." She couldn't wait to tell Akane about the evening. An edited version, of course. A heavily edited version.

* * *

I've finished my food, and now it's time for my nourishment. I'm exhausted, but I can't go to sleep yet. I'm alone now, and that's when the darkness comes. That's when the sadness comes. That's when I start thinking about Yasuo. The first pangs of grief hit me, and I feel that emptiness again, that cold, hollow feeling of loss. But I know I can't kill myself now. I have to kill someone else first. That starts tomorrow though. I need my medicine first.

walk into my postage stamp kitchen and open the single cupboard. There's a few packets of instant ramen, and three unopened bottles of Jim Beam bourbon. I grab a bottle and quickly open it up. Raising it to my lips, I take a swig, feeling it trace a line of fire down my throat and pool into my stomach. I keep drinking, feeling it fill my senses, first enhancing them, and then numbing them.

By the time I put the bottle down, half of it is gone, and my breath is coming in heaving gasps. I wipe the excess liquor from my mouth, and look down at my long sleeved white shirt. I've spilled whiskey on it. I put the bottle down on the counter, and pull my shirt off. I look down at my arms, surveying the ink that covers them both. A dark blue dragon with Sakura blossoms in it's mane winds it's way down my arm, flying sinuously through a sunset reddened sky.

On my left arm is a half sleeve that starts at my shoulder and goes to my elbow, with a samurai in full armor. The detail is exquisite, if I do say so myself, but then, all of my work is topnotch. My left forearm has two different inscriptions running from elbow to wrist, both in English.

The first, on the outside of the forearm, is done in a stylized cursive and reads: "The blood you spill is blood you owe, because what you reap is what you sew". Ironically enough, I got that before Yasuo was shot. It was almost prophetic. Sometimes I hate that tattoo. On the inside of the forearm is a bible scripture in old English, and says simply: "Exodus 20:13". Most people in Japan don't know what it means. If they ask, I don't tell them. I just tell them it's from the Christian bible. I got that before the Yasuo thing too. It was one of the first tattoos I got, to remind me that even though I'm not a Christian, some rules are good ones anyway. Didn't take long for me to break it.

My arms were the only parts of me that were done yet. Yasuo had his arms done and his back was started. Takai is covered. But then, he's Aiko's age; almost thirty now. I shake my head, and pound some more whiskey. I'm getting pretty drunk now, the booze is starting to really hit me. I lean back against the wall, and finish off the bottle in several big swallows.

I feel a lump rising in my throat, and can feel my dinner coming up already. The burn in my stomach is intense, but I swallow hard a few times and force everything back down. Stepping away from the wall, I pull a second bottle from the open cupboard and open it up. Swinging the cupboard door closed, I bring the bottle to my lips and take a few swallows, feeling the burn start all over again.

It's almost soothing in a way, drowning yourself in the poison, falling into the mind-numbing embrace of absolute drunkenness. Even if you have a high tolerance, like I do, it doesn't take long if you're determined. And I'm determined. I take several more swallows, flooding my brain with a river of fermented grain and water. The intense head-high finally hits me, and my eyes begin growing heavy.

I walk to my lazy-boy and pull the pistol from my waistband. Setting it carefully on the metal table, I settle heavily into my chair. I take another swig of whiskey, and then set the bottle down as well. It's been a long day, and a long night. Closing my eyes, I feel my world begin to spin. Consciousness fades like the end of a sad song, bringing with it the black emptiness of a drunk man's slumber.


	3. Everyday Life off in my 'Hood

Waking up with a hang over is more of a start-up process than it is a sudden re-introduction to consciousness. The first thing that I'm aware of is my dry, parched throat. My tongue is dry and swollen from too much alcohol and sleeping with my mouth open. I groan as I open my eyes, and it's a dry, dusty, scraping sound; like the lid of a mummy's sarcophagus being removed after thousands of years of immobility.

It's not bright in my room, which is good. In fact, it's pitch black, which is even better. That's because there's no windows in the bedroom. The only window is a small one in the living room that looks down on a grassy courtyard in the center of the projects. There's some playground equipment for the kids to play on, but it's old and outdated, and the grassy area is really more dirt and weeds than anything.

I slowly sit up; and here comes the pounding headache. I wince, and there's a slight intake of breath as the pain really hits. I'm not sure when I went to bed. The last thing I remember is sitting in my chair. I remember most of yesterday, including the time at the club and the talks with Nabiki. Nabiki...have to call her in a few days. Not right away though. I've got important things to do today. I look over at the digital alarm clock next to my double bed. 1:17 PM. Good; only half the day is wasted.

The first thing to do is wet my mouth with something. My foot hits a glass bottle, and I hear sloshing liquid inside. I pick it up, and unscrew the cap. Bringing it to my lips, I wash out the taste of stale whiskey and dried saliva with a fresh flood of amber liquor. Draining the remains of the bottle, I feel my hang over begin to fade under the mounting weight of a fledgling buzz.

I stand up and walk over to my bedroom wall, being careful to feel for any debris I may have left behind in my drunken stupor last night. Flipping on the light switch, I quickly shield my eyes. I blink rapidly, as my sensitive eyes get used to the light. Once I'm accustomed, I sit down on my bed again, and open the single drawer under my bedside table. Removing my glass pipe and my sack of weed, I pack a good-sized bowl and spark it up.

The heavy, intoxicating smoke fills my lungs, and I feel an enormous pressure begin to build in my chest. I manage to hold it in for almost fifteen seconds, choking back coughs as I do. Finally, I can't keep it up anymore, and the smoke comes rushing out of my lungs in a series of violent coughs. For a moment, it feels like I'm going to cough a lung up. The gunshot wound is still sensitive, and I feel a slight sting in my lung, even after I've exhaled the smoke.

The high hits me a few seconds later. This isn't creeper weed...this is insta-high shit; one-hitter quitter. I always have the good shit. Setting the pipe down on top of the bedside table, I feel the alcohol buzz being taken over and changed by the weed high. It's a strange feeling, mixing the two. I've always loved it, but it's not for everyone. Some people can't handle it. I shake my head, trying to think for a moment, and then remember what I'd planned on doing today. It's time to go looking for Yamada Ichiro. But first, it's time for a shower.

Once I'm clean, I dress in a pair of baggy blue jeans, and dark blue long-sleeved t-shirt left untucked. I slip on a pair of white Nike Cortez shoes and lace them up, and throw my white hoody on over my shirt. I put on a fitted white baseball cap with a stylized NJ for North Juuban on it in black, and grab my pistol, tucking it into the back waistband of my pants.

Takai always gives me shit for carrying it in the back, telling me that I'm gonna get shot because I'm too slow on the draw. To be honest, I'm a hell of a lot quicker than he is, and I know that I'm quicker than most. I'm also accurate. It's a special talent I have. The fact is, I spent so much time getting good at drawing the gun from behind me because I'm afraid of blowing my dick off. I've never actually seen it happen, but I've heard horror stories. Not that any of them were true, but still...it makes a guy think.

I'm about to leave my room, when I have a thought. It might be nice to have a little weed to smoke later while I'm out and about. I pull a blunt wrap out of my weed drawer, and grab my sack and a small pair of scissors. Gotta cut up good buds when you're rolling it up. You lose crystals if you tear em'. I put some of the weed in a small cigarette case, and drop that, the blunt wrap, and the scissors in my left pocket.

Now that I'm ready to go, it's time to get to work. Making sure I've got my cell phone and my house keys, I step outside my apartment and into the hallway. Mrs. Ito, the elderly widow across the hall, is coming up the stairs with grocery bags in hand. She steps up into the main hallway and smiles at me. "Good afternoon Keona. How are you today?" She asks, her old voice sounding a little quavery.

"Oh, I'm doing good Mrs. Ito. You know how it is."

"Is your chest healing up okay?" she asks, concern evident in her voice. I've had a soft spot for Mrs. Ito since I moved into this apartment three years ago. She's the closest thing to a grandmother I've ever had. When I first came home from the hospital, she would bring me meals every day, and spend time talking with me. She's a great old lady.

"My chest is good. Thanks for asking. Can I help you with those groceries?" I ask, figuring I might as well try and be helpful. But she shakes her head.

"Oh no, don't you worry about me. I've still got plenty of strength left in these old arms. You run along and have yourself a lovely day Keona."

I smile at her, unable to stop myself. "I'll do that Mrs. Ito. You have a good day too. Take care."

She smiles and sets to unlocking her door. As I'm about to take my first step down the stairs, she says, "You look different today. Did you meet someone?"

I think about it for a moment, deciding whether to burst her bubble or not. This old lady takes an exceptional amount of interest in my love life. She always wants to know when I'm going to settle down with some nice girl. Nabiki's not even a fuckbuddy, but I decide to tell her about her anyway. "I did meet this girl...I guess the other night."

"You guess?" she says. She's a sharp one, Mrs. Ito.

"I might have been drinking a little bit that night." I respond.

"You need to stop that. It's no good for you." She gets her door open, and sets her groceries on the floor inside. Turning to look back at me, she says, "Well, what's her name then?"

"Nabiki. She lives down in Nerima."

Her eyes widened, and she said, "My sister and her husband live in Nerima. I don't visit them there though. Strange things happen in that place." She shakes her head and begins muttering something about cold water, and boys turning to girls, and mysterious dragon-shaped cyclones that stretched high into the sky. Even by North Juuban standards, that's a little far-fetched.

I nod my head and say, "Well, I'll be sure to be careful when I'm down there. Thanks for the warning Mrs. Ito."

She nods and says, "You're very welcome. You take care now, you hear?"

"Always, Mrs. Ito. You too." I wave, and start down the stairs. I live on the fourth floor, and there's no elevator, so I try to come and go from the apartment as little as possible; I get plenty of exercise anyway. It's a hot, sunny day when I step outside, but the heat doesn't bother me at all. I throw the hood of my sweatshirt up over my hat, and start down the street. I pull my cell phone out, and am about to dial Takai's number and ask for a ride, when I think about what he said...whenever he said it. I need to get my own damn car. I know just how to do it too.

Now, most car thieves are really amateurs. Of course, there is a certain amount of skill involved in breaking the steering column open and hot-wiring a car. That's the quick way. But it's also very easy to get caught in the early stages of the break in. I have a much easier way to do it. It takes longer, but if you've got a good source for fake ID and some falsified driving records, it'll work in pinch. I flip my cell open and dial Takai's cell phone. It rings a few times, and then he answers. "Yeah."

"Takai, what's up man?"

"Oh, hey Kiki. Don't tell me...you need a ride." he said, his voice deadpan.

I smirk, though he can't see it. I'm sure he hears it in my voice. "Yeah, I do. Just not from you." I laugh a little and say, "Actually, what I need from you is new stats."

"Fuck...I don't have my laminating machine right now. How soon do you need it?"

I think about it for a minute, and then say, "Shit man, the sooner the better. I need to go get a new whip."

"Ah...rent-a-wreck?"

I chuckle again, and say, "Somethin' like that."

Takai is quiet for a moment, then says, "Okay, I'll tell you what. Let me just call this guy up real quick. Meet me at The Corner in an hour. I'll drop it off then, and you can catch a ride to the car joint."

"Cool. See you then." I flip my cell closed and put it back in my pocket. It's time to eat. I set course for McDonald's intent on a large coffee and a sausage mcmuffin with egg. Ten minutes later, I'm walking in the doors, the heavy scent of greasy sausage and hashbrown's overwhelming my senses. I breathe in deeply through my nose, savoring the aroma of the artery-clogging goodness I'm about to be eating. I order my food, and thankfully they're not out of coffee. McDonald's is never out of coffee. I eat my meal quickly, and then get up and leave.

Once outside again, I start heading towards The Corner. The Corner in question is the corner of Nobu Avenue and Matsuzaka Boulevard. Matsuzaka runs through the middle of northside, from the east end in the Katsuhara projects, to the southwest end next to downtown Juuban. The Corner is where everybody congregates; all the gangsters, thugs, and Yakuza wanna-be's. Not only is it the place to hang, it's also a good place to start asking around about Ichiro. And that's exactly what I plan on doing.

* * *

"No...haven't seem him around in a couple months. Since right around the time you got shot." I force down the growl of frustration that so desperately wants to escape. I've been here for twenty minutes, talking to everyone I can think of, and no one will give me an answer I like. Everyone says he's just...gone.

"Yeah, well, keep an eye out. I'll make it worth your while." The guy I'm talking to, Yusaku, is a small-time gangster; a member of the 3 Serpents Gang. His gang is in the middle of a turf war with Ichiro's gang, the Red Oni Clan. I'd go talk to the Oni's but I don't think that would go over too well. Not after Kenshin. For all I know, they're still gunning for me. Just because they haven't tried again, doesn't mean they won't.

Yusaku sneers, and says, "Man, you ain't been slinging shit since you got out the hospital. What could you possibly have that I'd want?"

I look down at him, secure on my lofty perch of affiliation with the Yakuza. "The question you should be asking, little man, is what don't I have?" I pat him hard on the chest, and say, "Take care of yourself." I turn around, and am about to start up a similar line of questioning with a guy called Horse (I won't say why), when I see a car coming down the street. Slow. Tinted windows. I know what's about to happen. I also know that I'm not the guy this time, this being the 3 Serpents hotspot. That doesn't make me any less there. I whip my Glock out and shout "Drive-by!"

As I shout my warning, the car's windows go down and it speeds up. The car is almost even with the larger part of the crowd that's hanging on The Corner, and the relative peace of the afternoon is shattered as the gunmen inside open fire. The first three people on the sidewalk drop, and I'm enraged as I realize that two of them aren't even part of this. They were just walking to the crosswalk.

I whip my pistol up, leading the driver just a bit, and open fire. I empty my entire clip in a matter of seconds, killing the shooter in the front passenger seat, and I can hear several of the gangsters standing around me firing at the car as well. A moment later, the top of the driver's head peels open like a rotten piece of fruit, blood and brain matter splattering against his window.

The car suddenly swerves towards us, and I shout, "SHIT!" As I take an adrenaline fueled dive to the left. I just manage to get out of the way, and sit up just in time to watch the car plow into the run down, abandoned building that sits on The Corner. I'm on my feet in a microsecond, a fresh clip in and a round chambered. I run towards the car, firing rapidly into the rear passenger window, and the 3 Serpents members around me are doing the same. We converge on the car, and I and a few other guys take a look in the windows. Four Red Oni boys, a driver and three shooters. Apparently, the third guy was supposed stand up through his window and shoot over the top of the car. He never made it up there.

I look around, and see a total of six people down. Two are dead without a doubt, the victims of throat and headshots, and one of them happens to be Yusaku. "Shit." I mutter. The sound of sirens in the distance reminds me that now is not the time to feel sorry for a dead gangbanger. Everyone else is clearing out, and I see no reason to do otherwise. I tuck my pistol into my waistband and start running towards downtown, pulling my cell from my pocket as I go. I hurriedly dial Takai's number, and duck into an alley as I hear the sirens getting closer. I duck behind a dumpster, and wait for the squad cars to pass. Takai answers while I'm waiting.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Where are you?" I ask breathlessly as I watch the police cars go by. A moment later, I step from behind the dumpster and begin walking towards the sidewalk.

"About five blocks away from The Corner, on 23rd and Matsuzaka. I just heard shooting."

I look back and forth quickly at the mouth of the alley. Seeing no police immediately nearby, and seeing an easy opportunity for camouflage in the droves of idiots that always hurried _towards_ the scene of a shooting, I begin trotting down the sidewalk towards downtown again. "Red Oni's pulled a drive-by, but the driver got popped. Turned into a little shootout."

"You involved?"

"What do you think?"

"Of course you were." His voice is tired, almost resigned. "You hit?"

Thankfully not. That would have been some pretty rotten luck. "No, I'm good. I'm still on Matsuzaka, heading towards downtown. Come get me."

"Be there in a couple." I hear the line go dead, and I flip my own cell phone closed. Dropping it in my pocket, I slow my pace to a walk. True to his word, Takai finds me within a couple minutes, and now I'm riding in his car, breathing a little easier. He looks over at me briefly and says, "Anyone get hit?"

I nod. "Yusaku's dead. Took his throat out. Horse was down, and a couple other cats I don't know. Some other guy and his girl got hit too. They were just passing by. Wrong place at the wrong time."

"They dead?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Probably. I didn't really stick around long enough to take pulses, you know what I'm saying?" I chuckle a bit, and Takai laughs a little as well.

The ride is silent until we pull up to a red light a few miles away, and he looks at me. "Rent-a-wreck?"

I shake my head. "Nah...I'm thinking maybe, Executive Rentals."

"Executive's huh? Going fancy."

I shrug. "I suppose. I need something fast, and I need something I can take that girl out in. I don't wanna be beggin' ride's off your ugly ass forever."

"Alright then." Takai grins. "Executive rentals it is."

* * *

Nabiki sat on the floor in front of the television, reading a manga. Akane sat next to her, and Ranma was sprawled on the couch. Akane was flipping through channels, looking for something decent to watch. "Honestly, you'd think there would be some good anime on today. Everyone's home on Sunday."

Ranma rolled his eyes. "If by 'good anime' you mean that magical girl crap you always watch, then count me out."

"Shut up Ranma. What do you know?"

"I know that magical girl anime sucks." Ranma braced himself, as if expecting to be malleted, but Akane just shook her head at him and turned to the TV again.

Nabiki looked over at her and said, "Put on the news. I want to check the stock market scroll." Akane sighed, but did as asked. The news came on, and Nabiki began reading the scroll of stock market info that ran on the bottom of the screen. Then her ears picked out something interesting.

"...site of a drive-by shooting in North Juuban roughly fifteen minutes ago that left a total of seven people dead and three other's critically wounded." Nabiki's eyes shifted to the picture on the screen, and she was shocked. A row of bodies covered with white sheets lay on the sidewalk, and the camera panned around to show a young woman covered in blood being fitted with an oxygen mask in an ambulance. There was blood all over the street and sidewalk, and the cameraman turned to show a dark brown car that was crashed against an old brick building. The car was filled with bulletholes, and Nabiki could just see the gore-spattered driver's side window in the camera's view.

"Eyewitnesses that were only mildly safer on the other side of the street, say that this brown car turned onto Matsuzaka Avenue several blocks down. Field correspondant Hoshide Akiko has more. Akiko?"

The camera angle changed again, and now it showed a pretty young Japanese woman, standing alongside a young woman who looked like a college student. "Thank you Jun. I'm standing here with Katsura Michi, who was standing on the opposite side of the street from the intended targets, whom are believed to be members of the 3 Serpents gang who regularly frequent this area." Turning to the shaking young woman next to her, Akiko the Field Correspondant said, "Michi, what exactly happened?"

Michi took a deep, shaky breath, and then in an equally shaky voice, said, "Um...well, I was walking home from the bus stop after my only class today, and I saw this car coming up. I just moved to Tokyo to go to school, and I had no idea it was like this." She was starting to tear up, and Akiko put an understanding look on her face and offered her a tissue. "They just came driving up the street, and then some guy over there," She pointed to the side of the street where most of the mayhem had occurred, "shouted drive-by. Then everyone just started shooting at each other." Her countenance dissolved completely into a full-on breakdown, and Akiko stepped slightly away and turned back to the camera.

"As you can see, it is yet another startling account of brutal gang violence, in a time when concern is growing over the lack of effective law enforcement. As long as street gangs continue to gain popularity amongst the city's disenfranchised youth, and as long as the Yakuza maintains a strong foothold in low-income area's such as North Juuban, the violence can only grow worse." She paused for effect, her demeanor stern and somber, and then said, "Back to you Jun."

"Thanks Akiko. The police on the scene say they are stunned by the magnitude of the bloodshed in this particular drive-by. Generally, they say, the car makes a clean getaway. Police have no leads yet as to the identity of any of the people shooting at the car." The anchorwoman shuffled her papers around, and then plastered a big plastic smile on her face and said, "In other news, The Kooky Koala toy company has just released a brand new interactive toy for toddlers; more on that after the break."

Akane shut the TV off, and sat back on her heels. "Oh Kami. That's awful!"

Nabiki was still staring at the TV screen, shocked by the amount of blood she'd seen. Standing up, she said, "I'm going to go up to my room. Have somebody come get me when dinner is ready." She felt sick to her stomach. She thought about Keona, who she barely knew. It hit her that Keona could be like that. One of those people that just went around spraying down street corners with bullets. After all, he did carry a gun, not to mention the fact that he'd threatened someone with it in front of her. But the danger was part of the excitement. There were all kinds of so-called "bad boys" at furinkan. The guys who did drugs, or acted like thugs. The bullies and the class-cutters. But Keona was the real deal.

She walked into her room and closed the door, before crossing over to her bed and lying down. She glanced over at her cell phone, willing it to ring. It'd never worked before, and she didn't expect it to now, but one never knew. After a few moments, she looked away from the phone and rubbed her eyes. She was actually a little sleepy. A nap would do her good right now. Tossing her manga on the bedside table, she rolled over and allowed sleep to overtake her.

* * *

"Alright Mr. Tanaka, if you'll just sign here, we'll get you into that McLaren." I sign on the dotted line and take back my fake ID. The customer service rep smiles at me and takes the rental contract from me, entering the information into the computer. He then goes into the back and returns with a key. "Your car should be in section D, row 14. Enjoy the car, and we'll see you in a week!" He exclaimed, the perfect picture of the helpful employee. He'll be lucky if he keeps his job when this car doesn't come back.

"Thanks, have a good one." I nod to him and then walk out the building's side door, into the enormous lot. After five minutes of walking, I find what I'm looking for. A brand new 1998 Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren. The finish is black, but that'll change. Within a week, this baby'll be a custom ride with a new paint job, new windows, new electronics. At it'll cost me less than the price of a brand new Honda. I grin and settle into the drivers seat. Pure luxury. This car is beautiful. I start it up, and revel in the sound of the big engine purring quietly under the hood. I adjust my mirrors, and check around me before backing out of the parking space. I drive out of the lot, and turn towards the nearest freeway on-ramp. Time to get back to Northside.

The drive takes close to twenty-five minutes, and when I finally pull off the freeway into North Juuban, I can't wait to get this thing to the shop. The good thing is, I don't need the money up front. I'm friends with these guys, so I should be able to just drop the car off and pay when I pick it up. I arrive at the shop, which is actually this run-down old warehouse about a block off of Matsuzaka, on Pine street. It's run by this American cat named Willis Dayton...or Dayton Willis, if you say it the American way.

I drive through the narrow alley that runs by the warehouse, and into the small lot behind it. There's a single garage door in the back of the building that looks like it's about to fall off. I get out of the car and go to door. Giving five knocks in a special rhythmic sequence, I go back to the car and stand next to the driver's door, making sure to wave at the hidden camera. A moment later, the door slowly begins to open.

I sit back down in the car and drive it into the garage. There are four other cars in various states of deconstruction and rebuilding, and I see a short, fat black man walking towards me. I get out of the car, and grin at him. He steps up to me, and we do a handshake that he'd shown me when he first arrived here a few years ago. "Mah man, Crazy Kiki, whatchoo up to? 'Dis ya new ride, G?" He asks, gesturing at the Benz.

"Yeah, but it's dirty as fuck right now. I need a little cleaning done, you know what I'm sayin'?" I ask.

Dayton laughs, and nods his head, and says, "I tell you what 'den. You bring yo'sef back 'round here in fi' days, I git 'dis bitch all turned out fa ya, ya hear?"

We do the handshake again, and I say, "Alright then man. Nothing too crazy though...none of that nitro shit, okay?"

Dayton just laughs. "Go on, boi, git...gitch yo'sef outta here. I ha' 'dis mu'fucka finished when you git back." He tosses a greasy rag at me as I begin walking away, and he calls, "Hey, li'l Nip! Say wassup ta 'dat sweet li'l thang you call yo' sista! Tell her to give ol' Dayton a holla, baby!"

I laugh and toss a wave over my shoulder as I walk out the garage door. I hear it slide closed behind me, and realize that I am still rideless for the better part of the next week. Sighing , I start walking towards home. I've only been up for about three hours, but I'm ready to call it a day. These days, I just don't have the same energy that I used to.

After a forty minute walk, I arrive in the Katsuhara projects. A few guys nod to me, and I nod back. I do handshakes with a couple of them, but I don't stop to talk. I walk to my building, and then up the four flights of stairs to my floor. There's no one in the hallway, thankfully, which means no conversations. I get into my apartment and flip on the lamp near the TV. I pull my gun out and set in on the table, and then pull my cell phone out. It's been a long three hours. Pizza delivery and whiskey sounds like a good way to close the day.

It's a bit early to go to sleep yet, but I've still got my weed and blunt wrap in my pocket, and a bottle of whiskey in the cupboard. I'll have myself a little private party. The drive-by had stirred up the still fresh memories of the attack that had killed Yasuo and put me out of commission for a little over a month. I'll order my food and eat, and then it'll be time to forget again.


	4. Job Interview

Thanks to Underdark Ranger and Ranma Hibiki for their reviews. If anyone has any criticisms, good or bad, feel free to post them in a review. On with the story.

* * *

Takeda Akihito reclined in his plush leather office chair and stared at the man across from him over steepled fingers. It'd been a while since he'd seen him, and he had to say that he was surprised it taken this long. After contemplating the man's possible reasons for coming, he decided there was no point in guessing. "So, what can I do for you Keona?"

Keona shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and said, "I need to start working again."

Akihito nodded his head, and leaned forward, folding his hands on his desk. "I understand you've had a rough go of it lately. I'm sorry about Yasuo. I know he meant a lot to you."

Keona shrugged, his face impassive. "What's done is done."

"So I take it that I can trust you not to go off half-cocked and start a war with the Red Oni Clan over this Ichiro guy?" Akihito's face was equally impassive, but his voice held an unmistakable tone of command. The Red Oni Clan had been prospering of late, thanks to their ties with local Triad gangs. The situation in the Tokyo underworld was unstable enough with the war between the 3 Serpents Gang and the Red Oni's. He didn't need the problem to be exacerbated by some jumped-up coke dealer who thought he was Takeshi fucking Kitano in one of his Yakuza movies or something. Raising an elegantly arched eyebrow, the handsome Japanese man said, "That is what you're telling me, is it not?"

A small smile slowly appeared on Keona's face, and he nodded minutely. "I guess that's what I'm saying then."

"Good. I trust you didn't lose all your money when you were...indisposed?"

"I'm good. Set me up with a key. That'll be good."

Akihito chuckled, and leaned back in his chair, his legs crossing languidly. "My my, Kiki-san, jumping in with both feet aren't we?"

Keona licked his lips, and then grinned. "It's always easier to get used to the water when you just take the plunge. 'Sides, I need to let people know I'm back."

"Oh, I'm sure they're aware of that already. I heard about the little incident down at Pharoah's. I'm sure others have too." He knew Keona wouldn't ask how he knew. He was smart enough to know that Akihito would find out anything he did, in time. It was one of the reasons that he liked Keona so much. The other reason was because of his reliability. The boy was just so damn loyal to anyone who showed him a crumb of prosperity or affection. Even if he'd been burned.

As long as you kept him hooked, he'd keep coming back. Not that Keona was a base-head. Far from it. He stayed away from anything stronger than marijuana and alcohol, Akihito knew that. But he was still hooked, just as surely as if he'd been shot up with heroin all those years ago. Once you were in the game, you were in it for life. There was very little prospect of a legitimate future for a man like Keona, and he knew that better than anyone. He'd even admit it if pressed. Akihito had heard him do it more than once. He just didn't seem to care. "A key it is. I shouldn't need to ask if you brought the money up front."

Keona's eyes narrowed angrily, and he said, "You just did. You know me better than that. When have I ever fucked you over?"

Akihito shrugged. "You never know Kiki. You just never know. Well, you know the routine. Money first, then snow."

Keona lifted up his backpack and set it in his lap. Opening the main pocket, he upended it over the desk, scattering neat stacks of high denomination Yen notes on the desk. He waited silently while Akihito counted it, and then smiled snidely when he'd finished. "See...you know you can count on me."

"I know that Keona. But things these days...I know I don't have to tell you. You know better than most."

Keona nodded, and said, "Yeah. I know." He pulled a pack of smokes from the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled a cigarette out. He lit it, and then said, "So why don't you call your boy in here, and let's get this done. I got things to do today." He took a drag off his smoke and blew the smoke out through is nose.

Akihito nodded, and pushed a button on his phone. "Gyoukei, I need a key." A couple minutes later, a bald Japanese man wearing a dark blue three-piece suit entered the room with the requested amount of product. "Here you are. Check in with me again soon Keona. I miss these talks."

Keona eyed Akihito warily, and then nodded his head. "Sure thing boss. I'll be in touch." Stuffing the cocaine into his large backpack, he zipped it up and stood from his seat. "Be seein' you."

"Have a good day. And be careful with that." Akihito watched as Keona left his office, his merchandise in hand, his lit cigarette pressed between his lips. Keona had always been one of his favorites. He wasn't even an official member of the Yakuza, but Akihito hoped that would one day change. He had a lot of potential to go far in the underworld.

The problem was, Akihito didn't believe for a moment that Keona would actually stay away from the Red Oni Clan. With his adoptive brother dead, and with his older sister's inability to rein him in from his more self-destructive behaviors, Keona's desire for retaliation might outweigh his desire to live. As much as he hated to do it, Akihito knew he needed to set protective countermeasures in place.

Akihito picked up his phone and hit speed dial number four. A few moment's later, a rough, gravelly voice answered. "Hello?"

"Hiro, my friend. I have work for you."

"What is it Takeda-san?"

"The orphan. I want you to watch him. If you see him snooping around Red Oni territory, let me know. If he does anything..._unseemly_, I want you to take care of him for me. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly."

"Good." Akihito hung up the phone and closed his eyes. Sighing heavily, he grieved silently at what he'd been forced to do. He loved Keona, cared about him. But he couldn't risk a war with the Triads over a bloody rivalry between an affiliated base pusher and his crew, and a Triad-connected street gang. The Yakahito-Gumi could ill afford any bumps in the road now. Akihito was in the process of helping the Oyabun broker a deal for territory between the already settled Sun Yee On triad of Hong Kong, and the newly arriving United Bamboo Gang triad of Taiwan.

If things went south between the Sun Yee On and the Yakahito-Gumi because of some upstart drug dealer that Akihito couldn't control, his position would be weakened. That in turn would weaken the gang, and give both the Triads, and the Korean Yakuza an easy opportunity to move in on his operations and threaten his boss'. It just wasn't something he could leave to fate. Shaking his head sadly, he muttered, "I'm sorry I ever brought you into this Kiki. You deserved better."

* * *

I step into my apartment and lock the door behind me. Walking to the couch that runs along the far wall, and is just as ratty and old as the armchair, I sit down and empty the contents of my backpack onto the coffee table. Setting my pistol on the table next to the packages of coke, I stand up and go into my bedroom. In my bedside table drawer, I find my scale, set to ounces and grams. I also pull out my weed and a blunt wrap. On the way back to the living room, I stop by the kitchen and grab a bottle of whiskey. Gotta have fuel to drive.

After I'm settled on the couch with my drink and my scale, I roll up a nice fat blunt and spark it up. Taking a big hit, I set it in the green glass ashtray on the table and open up a bag of coke. I'm about to begin pouring it out, when I realize that I don't have my glass. I reach under the sofa and remove a wall mirror, which I clear a space for on the table. Then I dump roughly a quarter-key of blow on it, pick up a straight razor, and begin cutting portions and weighing them out. Larger portions will be set aside for me to sell to some of the small-time dealers down on the corner. The rest gets cooked, and sold as rock. Easy money.

Several hours of smoking, drinking, and weighing out baggies of coke later, I'm set on the wholesale. Now it's time for the retail. Dropping two ounces worth of gram bags each into several large freezer bags, I set them aside and take the rest of my blow into the kitchen. Removing a large glass jar from the cabinet next to the stove, I fill it partway with water and then take it to the small table in the dining room. I then grab a box of baking soda and measure out a small quantity into the water. I set the jar on a burner and turn it on, waiting for it to heat up a bit. When it's nearing the boiling point, I begin adding the cocaine. Once that's done, it's time to let the soup cook for a while.

I smoke some more weed, and then check on my soup. Seeing that it looks ready, I use a potholder to remove the jar from heat and set it in the table. After a while, it begins to harden and set, and finally, it's dry. I grab a butterknife from the kitchen and begin breaking up the rock. Once that's done, I take it to the living room and set to bagging it up. I don't sell crack any bigger than fives and dimes, so as to maximize profit. Each time you up the sale amount, it drops the 'retail' value, if you will, netting you less total profit. I spend most of the rest of the day cooking my rock, making sure the window is open and the fan is on. The fumes can get to you after a while.

After I've finished, I pack it away in my closet, behind my safe, and look at my watch. 5:32 PM. Today's the day. I pull my cell from my pocket and dial Nabiki's number. A sweet, gentle voice answer's the phone, and I recognize it as belonging to the girl who'd woken me up the night I stayed over there. "Good Evening, Tendo Dojo."

"Yeah, I was looking for Nabiki." I say, wondering if she'll recognize my voice too.

"Oh my, you must be Keona. I'll get her right away." I hear the older girl calling for Nabiki, and then she says, "She'll be right down."

The line is silent for almost a minute, and then I hear the muffled sounds of someone picking up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Nabiki...it's Keona."

"Oh, hey. I was wondering if you were actually going to call. I was beginning to lose hope." Her tone is playful, but the words still make me a little wary. In my experience, women always mean it when they say shit like that...even if they're telling you otherwise.

"Nah, no worries about that. I just had a busy week." I tell her. Not really, but she doesn't care. "So, it's Saturday night. Got plans?"

I wait for her to respond, and when she does, her voice is hesitant. "Um, actually yeah. I didn't think you were going to call, so I told one of my friends that I'd go to her party."

"What kind of party is it?" I ask, keeping my voice low so the husky overtones earned through years of smoking reef and drinking whiskey can bleed through the phone lines.

"Um, it's a college party. She's a sophomore, and she's throwing a party at her sorority house." She's silent again for a moment, and I can almost hear her internal debate going on. Finally, she says, "I can call her and cancel if you still want to do something."

I lick my lips slowly, and walk slowly into the living room. Sitting on the couch, I pick up my nearly empty bottle of booze and uncap it. "You really want to go to this party?" I ask her, before taking a drink.

"Well, I don't really see her much since she started at Tokyo University, so it would be kind of nice to see her."

Time to see if she's a sensible girl. "Well, why don't I take you. We can pick up something to eat on the way, and then head over to the party."

"Okay, that sounds good. I'll just call her and tell her you're coming." Apparently not. Then she says, "Wait, how are we getting there if you don't have a car?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. My car was just in the shop last weekend." I take another drink of whiskey, and then say, "So when's this party kickin' off?"

"Um, nine."

"Alright. I'll swing by round 'bout eight o' clock then."

"Great! I'll see you then. Ciao."

"Peace." I press the end call button on my cell and drop it on the coffee table. I stand up and walk to the window, turning the fan's power down to low. I then go into the bathroom and strip down for a shower. I turn the water on, and then begin the interminably long wait for the water to heat up to tolerable temperatures. As I wait, I face myself in the oversize mirror over the small, rust-filled linoleum sink.

The bright tattoo's on my arms are a stark contrast to my pale skin. I need to get out in the sun more. But even more striking are the four dark pink scars on my torso. One is at the bottom of my right ribcage, another is on my right shoulder, a third in my gut, just above where my stomach is, and the fourth was a through and through that tore a chunk of muscle off my left flank just above the hipbone.

The skin is still slightly tender to the touch, and the lung still pains me...mostly when I'm smoking. But the physical wounds are fading, healing, turning into scars. The emotional and mental wounds are still bleeding. The flow hasn't slowed since I woke up to Aiko standing above me, her eyes puffy and red from crying, her mouth twisted with grief. My hand had been in hers, and I could only look at her. I wanted to ask her, what happened to Yasuo. She knew that. And she told me. "He's gone Kiki." And then she'd dissolved into tears, and I had too. It had been a shock to my system, and I'd nearly flatlined. Aiko still felt guilty about that.

But that hospital room is behind me. Watching the videotaped memorial service from my hospital bed with IV tubes in my arms and bloody bandages on my chest is behind me. As is scattering my brother's ashes with Aiko on the slopes of Fuji-sama. I think of Nabiki for a moment, wondering why I even bothered talking to her.

I try to fit her into the picture my mind is painting for me, and I'm finding it difficult to do. All I see is death. Death behind me, death before me. Mine at the end, most likely. I'm twenty now. My twenty-first nameday; I say that because no one knows when I was born, comes in four months. The likelihood of me reaching that day alive is slim.

For a moment, I entertain the notion of playing the tragic hero, and telling Nabiki that she can't get involved with me. That I'm too dangerous. Or maybe I should be a dick and just bail on her and not call. But then I think, fuck it. If I'm gonna break the truce, I might as well have some fun before I go out. And I will break the truce. Fuck Takeda and the Yakahito-Gumi. Fuck the Triads and the fucking Koreans. I'm going to make war. I have friends too, and with a few well-placed calls, I can bring hell to the Red Oni Clan.

With that thought ringing in my head, I step into the shower. It's lukewarm...as warm as it ever gets, but at least it's not icy. The water and soap washes away sweat, grime, and bad memories. Right now, it's time for some fun.

* * *

Nabiki stepped into Akane's room and said, "So, how do I look?"

Akane eyed her sister suspiciously, and said, "Nabiki? Aren't those my jeans?" The tight low-rise jeans did look quite good on her sister, and she filled out the rear a little more than Akane did. Of course, that was just because she was softer. Her gaze traveled to the shirt her sister had on; a clingy, dark blue tank-top with spaghetti straps that did little to conceal her rather...generous assets. Thankfully, not one of hers. On her feet was a pair of Kasumi's classy white sandals, the heels raised an inch. Her toenails and fingernails were painted the same shade of blue as her shirt, and had tiny cherry blossoms in the center of each one.

"C'mon sis, is it good or not?" Nabiki asked her, her hands on her hips.

Akane rolled her eyes. "Yes Nabiki, you look hot. But those pants had better come home clean."

Nabiki stuck her tongue out at her sister and then grinned. "Thanks sis. See you later."

"Have a good time. And tell him he better not get fresh, or he'll have to deal with me." Akane said, her eyes flashing.

Nabiki almost laughed at the thought of her sister threatening Keona. For all she knew, he might lose a fair fight to her. The idea of a guy like him fighting fair just didn't seem right, however. She smiled at her little sister's well-meaning protectiveness and said, "Will do Akane-chan."

She walked downstairs, and was immediately aware of the gazes of the three resident males. Glancing their way, she saw three different reactions, though all were equally predictable. Genma, the fat old panda, was desperately trying to avert his gaze from her rather ample bosom. Ranma, dear Ranma, was staring at her like a deer caught in the headlights, his brain already sliding into the freeze mode in entered when a beautiful woman was in close proximity. And her father...well, Soun was less than pleased. But he didn't say anything. He knew better than that. They all did.

There came a knock at the door, and a moment later, Kasumi was ushering Keona into the room. He smiled at her, and took in her appearance, as she did his. He was dressed in a pair of baggy blue jeans and a loose white t-shirt with long sleeves. The fabric clung slightly to his chest, and she could just make out the well-defined muscles beneath. His feet were encased in a pair of white Nike basketball shoes. His head was uncovered, and she noticed something she hadn't seen the other night. His eyes were green. And not just green, but a startling shade of intense emerald green. He gave a short bow to the assembled family members, and then glanced at the stairs as Akane came running down.

Nabiki raised a warning eyebrow at her little sister, and was relieved when all she did was walk up to him and say, "Hi, I'm Nabiki's sister, Akane."

Keona nodded at her, and said, "Keona."

Nabiki took his arm, and said quietly, "C'mon, let's go before the questions start." Turning to her family, she said, "Well, we better get going or we're going to be late. Daddy, I left money for the electric bill on the kitchen counter._ Please_ make sure it get's paid before you go to the baths tomorrow morning." With that, she led Keona out of the house, and down the front walkway. She was about to ask him where he wanted to eat, when she saw the car sitting in front of her house. "Kami, what is that? That's incredible! Is this your's?"

Keona nodded his head, and said, "Yeah."

The car was long, low and sleek. It had an odd finish to it, one that shifted as she walked around it, looking at it. Depending on the angle of the light, it appeared either black, or a deep, dark purple. She had no idea what kind of rims it had, but they were so shiny they were almost blinding. The thing looked like a street legal race car. "What is it?"

"It's a Mercede's SLR McLaren." Gesturing to the passenger door, he said, "You ready to go?"

Nabiki nodded, and got in the car. The interior was black, and instead of leather, there was some kind of soft synthetic fabric that was silky smooth to the touch. She sat down, and found her seat to be pleasantly warm, and looked over at Keona in surprise when he got in the car. "Aren't you afraid this thing will get stolen in your neighborhood?"

Keona turned a self-assured smirk on her; one that, for a moment, almost reminded her of Ranma. "No." That was it. A one word answer. Nabiki felt a thrill run up her spine, and almost shivered. She liked confident men. Not arrogant and insecure, like Ranma. But confident...like Keona.

She gave him her sexiest smile, and said, "So Kiki...you hungry?"

He licked his lips and turned his eyes forward as he drove them away from her house. "I could eat."

Two orders of ramen and potstickers later, they were on their way to the University of Tokyo campus, to Naomi's party. Of course, Naomi had been a little upset when Nabiki had told her she'd be bringing Keona. But Nabiki had...talked her into it. She began getting butterfly's in her stomach as they approached the sorority house that the party was taking place in.

Nabiki would be the only high school girl there. In fact, she'd probably be the only high-schooler period. The fact that Naomi was from Furinkan helped. Nabiki's reputation had preceded her, and she already had several contacts on campus. By the time she began attending classes next fall, she'd have a monopoly on the betting and loan-sharking operations. She could then pass Furinkan on to her underlings and move on to bigger and better things.

These thoughts were pushed from her mind when Keona parked the car. "We're here." They got out, and already she could hear the heavy bass of dance music coming from the house. She turned around to find Keona on his side of the car, his door still open. He was looking down at something, and then bent into the car for a moment. He stood up then, and closed his door.

"What was that all about?" Nabiki asked.

"Just deciding whether or not to take my wallet."

"Ah. I see. Well, let's go in. The party's already started, and we're missing it." Taking Keona's hand, she began walking briskly across the lawn and up the steps. She knocked loudly on the door and a few seconds later, it opened to reveal Naomi.

She smiled, and said, "Hey Biki! Come in!" She pulled her friend inside, and Nabiki in turn pulled Keona inside. Turning to Keona, Naomi gave a markedly less enthusiastic, "Hi." Looking back at Nabiki, she said, "Okay, so the DJ is in the living room and everyone is dancing in there. There's people in the basement shooting pool and smoking up and partying. I would recommend staying out of the upstairs area with him." Putting a big smile on her face again, she said, "Booze is in the kitchen with the food. Help yourselves. And Biki, be sure to introduce Keona here to the girls. I'm sure they'll just _love_ him." She then turned and walked away, calling some guy's name.

Keona said, "Nice girl, isn't she?"

Nabiki laughed, and placed a hand on his arm, saying, "Really, she is a sweetheart. She just get's a little nervous around people who..."

"Poor people?"

"People with guns. That's, um, actually what I was going to say. She doesn't..."

Nabiki was cut off again, as Keona said, "Why don't you not mention that out loud in here, huh? I'd appreciate that." His tone was firm, and his eyes glittered like green ice.

Nabiki suddenly felt a little smaller, and remembered the conclusion she'd come to nearly a week before. He was either a gang member, or Yakuza. The fact that he had a gun, and was willing to pull it out in a public nightclub, meant he had a connection to a powerful mob organization regardless of whether he was a member or not. She realized that she was playing a little out of her league. Running high school gambling rings, loan-sharking, and blackmail operations was one thing. Running with the mob was on a completely different level. The idea that she was with this man, that she'd given him her number, gave her an inexplicable thrill.

Deciding to make the most of the evening, she said, "Why don't we do some dancing?"

Keona shrugged, and said, "Yeah, alright." Nabiki pulled him through the large entry foyer, and into an oversized living room that had been cleared of all furniture but the stage for the DJ and his equipment. There was some house music playing, and Nabiki immediately felt the bass pulsing through her body as they entered the room. Maneuvering through the wildly gyrating throng of college age revelers, Nabiki took up a position near the center of the dancefloor, and began moving to the music, her eyes on Keona.

She was surprised to find that he was a fairly good dancer, though he didn't seem to be getting into it much. She didn't suppose he was a big fan of techno. They had danced four songs together, and Nabiki was about to suggest a break, when the music shifted from the frenetic, bass heavy sounds of Japanese and German house techno, to the relaxed, ultra-smooth grooves of classic American Motown R&B. She felt Keona's arms go around her, and she leaned into him, the two of them swaying gently back and forth to the music. Nabiki closed her eyes, and began to drift off into her own little romantic world. Things were going well for the Ice Queen of Furinkan High. Things were going well indeed.

* * *

I'm standing in this sorority house living room, surrounded by people I don't know, most of them fine girls. I've got my arms around one of them...the one I came with. Nabiki is making for good company. We talked a bit over dinner. She's smart, witty, and she loves money. She told me a bit about her operation at her high school, and I gotta say that I'm impressed. If she wasn't so typically upper-middle class, I'd say she'd go a long way in the Yakuza. But she wouldn't. I can already tell she's too ethical. She might cheat someone, but I know from looking that she isn't a killer. To make it in the underworld, to survive for any length of time, you have to be one. Even if you don't pull the trigger, you have to be okay with giving the order.

Shaking my head, I banish these thoughts from my mind. I'm supposed to be enjoying myself. Just as I'm starting to really do that, my fucking cell phone rings. I look down, and see Nabiki looking up at me expectantly. "Hold on!" I yell over the music. I can just barely hear the annoyingly loud ring of the phone, muted as it is by the overloud music. I flip my phone open, and say, "Hold on." The front door is close, so I head that way. Stepping outside, I head out into the front yard, where several young women, including Naomi, are sitting around smoking a pipe. They're all giggling at something, and they're obviously not bigtime stoners. Shifting my focus away from them, I put my phone to my ear. "Yeah?"

"Hey, Kiki, it's Takai."

"Oh, hey. What up?"

"You still interested in the guys who did that drive-by with Ichiro?" Takai's voice is soft and calm, but there's a note of excitement underneath.

"What the fuck do you think?" I draw a few glances from Naomi and the girls, and I notice that Nabiki has followed me out, and is sitting in the front yard with her friends.

"Just checking. I know you were planning on talking to Takeda-san, and I knew what he'd say." Takai's voice is wry.

"And you're still asking?"

"Hey, what are friends for?"

I rub my chin for a moment, contemplating my options. After a moment, my mind is made up. "What do you got?"

Takai takes a deep breath on the other end of the line, and then says, "The guy who was driving works part-time at a cinaplex theater up here in Northside on the corner of 39th and Chiba. He's working tonight and tomorrow night. He'll be there till three in the morning for both shifts."

"Takai, man I owe you one. Keep diggin' for me. I'll scope this cat out later. I'm a little busy right now."

"Cool. Hey, look...you want me to take care of this for you? I loved Yasuo too man, and this guy'll be no problem at all."

I shake my head, not thinking about the fact that he can't see me doing it. "Nah, it's cool. I'll shake this motherfucker down myself. What you can do though, is stick around till he get's off work, and follow him home. Call me when he's headin' out."

"Alright, can do."

"Good lookin' out."

"Later."

"Peace." I flip my phone closed and approach the girls. Crouching down behind Nabiki, I say, "You all wanna smoke some real weed?"

* * *

Nabiki sat in the passenger seat of Keona's car, mildly tipsy, but very awake. Naomi was in the small backseat, and she and Nabiki were carrying on an animated conversation. They were currently on a beer run. They'd run out of alcohol a little earlier, and Nabiki had volunteered she and Keona to go, simply because she wanted another ride in his car. Once Naomi saw the car, she had to tag along too. Suddenly, she was being much nicer to Keona. "So Keona, what kind of name is that?" She asked.

"Hawaiian." Keona replied, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Oh. Is one of your parents Hawaiian?" Naomi asked, innocently enough. Nabiki also listened with interest, knowing nothing about Keona's family.

"I don't know."

Nabiki was confused. "What do you mean you don't know?"

Keona flipped on his right turn signal, and checked over his shoulder before switching lanes. "I mean I don't know. I never met my parents."

Naomi said, "Well then who raised you?"

"My sister."

Nabiki and Naomi both nodded their understanding, and Nabiki said, "So you were adopted and your adoptive parents died?"

"No. I ran away when I was ten and ended up in Northside. I met this kid Yasuo one day outside his school when I was hanging around at lunch begging for food. He took me home to his older sister, Aiko. Their parents had died a year earlier, and she was his guardian, and an emancipated adult."

"So at least you had some kind of home life."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"So what are they like?" Nabiki asked, curious. They couldn't be any worse than her family.

"Aiko is...she's a strong woman, she's smart. She's studying online for a business and marketing degree, and working as a secretary in a bank in downtown Juuban, so she's busy. But she's always there for me when I need her." He went silent then, and the girls both waited, giving him room to talk about Yasuo too.

When he didn't, Naomi said, "What about your brother...Yasuo was it?"

Even in the darkened interior of the car, Nabik could see Keona's jaw tighten, before he said, "He died a couple months ago."

Naomi, sweet as she could be, was somewhat insensitive at times. It was worse when she was under the influence. "Oh, Kami I'm sorry. How?"

Keona's voice was tense and quiet when he replied, "So where's this liquor store again?"

Naomi was about to respond when a cell phone rang. Naomi checked her phone, and said, "It's not me."

Keona said, "It's me." He flipped his phone open, and said, "Yeah?" There was a momentary silence, and then he muttered, "You're fuckin' kidding, right?" He sighed, and pulled a u-turn, heading back the other way. "Alright, I'm heading that way. Call and let me know where to meet you." Nabiki gave Keona a questioning gaze, and he sent her a reassuring smile. "Alright, 'bout fifteen then...cool, I'll be on the freeway." He closed his phone, and said, "We're gonna have to stop at a liquor store in my neighborhood. I just got this call, and me and a friend have to go meet this guy at his house. It shouldn't take long at all."

Nabiki looked back at Naomi, and mouthed, "Sorry." Naomi shrugged. She was too drunk and stoned to care. That stuff that Keona had brought out had been...indescribably strong pot. He assured them that it was pure weed, nothing laced, but she was pretty looped from just a couple hits. Of course, he was a drug dealer. It made sense that he'd keep the best stuff for himself.

Nabiki stared out the window as they drove towards Northside, and a little after ten minutes later, Keona's cell phone rang again. He answered it, then closed it a moment later. She'd only been through North Juuban a few times and had never actually gotten out of the car. She didn't plan on doing it now. After another ten minutes or so, they pulled up in front of a small one-story house. Houses that were identical in design lined the street they were on, on each side.

Keona looked at both of them, and then said, "Stay in the car. This won't take long." He reached under his seat and grabbed something. Nabiki couldn't see what. Then he got out of the car, and walked across the street, towards a house with a Japanese Flag hanging out front. The guy she'd seen with him in the club the other night got out of another car and fell in beside him.

When they got to the front door, Nabiki noticed that the skinny guy knocked, but Keona turned his back to the door. She watched as it opened, and tried to see who was inside, but she couldn't. A moment later, the skinny guy went in. Keona backed up to the doorway, and then ducked his head and turned around, going inside. She was puzzled at his odd behavior, and watched the house for signs of anything odd. A couple minutes later, someone in the house turned the stereo up quite loud with some kind of American Rap music playing. Nabiki could feel the bass from her seat in the car, across the street.

Naomi said, "Damn, that's loud. What the hell are they doing, having a party?"

Nabiki frowned. "They better not be. Keona said this wouldn't take long."

"Well, let's hope he was...wait, there he is. Him and the skinny guy." Sure enough, Keona and his friend were walking down the short walkway from the house's front steps to the street. His friend just waved and got in his car and left. Keona trotted across the street and hopped in the driver's seat.

He closed his door and strapped on his seatbelt. Turning to Nabiki, he smiled, and said, "Ready to make that liquor run?"

"Kami yes, finally!" Naomi whined drunkenly.

Nabiki just nodded her bobbed head and replied, "Whenever you are."

* * *

For Nabiki, the rest of the night was wonderful. He took her back to the party for a couple more hours, and then they decided to go for a long drive in his car. He drove them around the freeway for a while, and then finally into Nerima, where Nabiki directed him to one of the local parks. It was close to three in the morning, and the likelihood of one the NWC attacking at this time was slim.

They walked along one of the paved pathways for a while, before sitting down on a little bench overlooking a duckpond. Nabiki looked over at Keona and said, "What's it like living in the Katsuhara Projects?"

He shrugged. "Don't really have much to compare it to, besides the orphanage. It's better than that."

"Oh."

He looked at her, a sly grin on his face. "Why, you planning on moving in or something? Work fast, don't you?"

Nabiki smirked, and said, "Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of a high-rise condo downtown, with a big vacation house on some beach somewhere tropical and not in Japan."

"Damn. You think big. That's a good thing I suppose."

"What, and you don't think big? I know what you do. I heard you at the club. You can't be wanting to do that forever, can you?" She asked, her tone serious.

"No, I don't expect to be doing it for much longer at all." Keona turned and looked back at the pond. He shook his head, and said, "Who know's what's gonna happen?"

"Only the Kami."

"I don't believe in Kami."

Nabiki leaned back a little and looked at him. "Then what do you believe in?"

"I believe in god. I guess."

"You guess? Doesn't sound like you're very...convinced of that."

Keona shrugged, and smirked. "I'm not." He looked at his watch, and said, "It's getting early. What do you want to do?"

Nabiki sighed, regretting having to put an end to a good night. "I should go home and try and get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day." _Full of questions._ She thought to herself.

"Alright." Keona stood up, and held out his hand to her. Taking it, Nabiki stood with him.

They walked in companionable silence back to his car, and drove to her house with the radio playing softly. When they arrived, Keona escorted her to the front door. She smiled at him, and put her hand in his. "I had a really good time tonight. Thanks."

"Anytime. I'll call you, okay?"

"'Kay." Nabiki was staring at his eyes, caught by the intensity of his gaze. She began leaning slowly towards him. His face came down to meet hers, and their lips brushed gently. She pulled back a moment later, and opened the door. "Goodnight Keona. Call me."

"I will." he replied. Nabki shut the door, and leaned against it. She took a deep breath, and tried to relax. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her lips were still tingling from the brief contact with Keona's. She slipped off her shoes and trudged up the stairs to her room. Stripping down to her panties, she didn't even bother putting on a nightshirt she was so exhausted. She fell onto her bed and snuggled deep into the covers, falling asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. She slept better that night than she'd slept in a long time.

The next morning, Kasumi stepped into Nabiki's bedroom to wake her up for breakfast. Seeing the happy smile on her younger sister's face, Kasumi decided to let her sleep in. Nabiki worked hard, and didn't get to enjoy herself enough. Last night was apparently good for her, if she was smiling in her sleep like that. _Far be it from me to wake her from whatever sweet dream she's having._ Kasumi thought. Putting a smile on her face, and humming a happy little song, she walked down the stairs to serve breakfast to everyone else.

* * *

The police are going love that one. No shell casings, no witnesses. No evidence of rival gang members, and nothing removed from the house. I try to smile at the thought, but for some reason, satisfaction eludes me still. It's because I'm not finished yet. One down, three to go. I take a swig of whiskey, letting it numb me to any guilt I might feel over what I've done. _Blood you spill is blood you owe._ The thought runs through my mind, and I drown it with another long drink of booze. It was what needed to be done. I know that I'll see it on the news tomorrow. I'll be watching, to see what the police tell the media. Who knows. They might even get something right.

* * *

Okay folks, there it is. It might be a week or two before the next one, as I'm also working on the next chapter of my Star Wars fic, but hopefully I'll be able to get it done quickly.


	5. Angel

Detective Yassine Porphyres stood in the open doorway of a small bedroom, in a small house, looking at a very big problem. She slowly pushed her stylish, wire-frame glasses up on her nose and sighed. Her partner, Ishikawa Akina, had called at nine this morning and pulled her from the embrace of a buxom young waitress who's company she'd been quite enjoying.

Standing at only five feet, two inches tall, and weighing in at 111 pounds, she had a rather curvaceous figure, but often failed to intimidate. That was tough for her, being a homicide detective. Intimidation was a great thing to have on your side. She was working on that. She was too small, too beautiful, and too Gaijin to really scare the serious criminal's in this country just yet. Instead, she relied on her stunning looks, her undeniably superior intelligence...and Akina.

Akina was a smart, beautiful Japanese woman, and unfortunately straight as an arrow. At least, that's how Yassine saw it. Akina was also a good shot, and a hell of a martial artist. She'd spent time in the JSDF special forces before becoming a cop, and she was a natural detective. And boy had she detected a whopping pile of shit this time. "Akina-chan, what the hell? Where are my fucking shell-casings? Where are my witnesses? Where's the fucking evidence? Where are my tire marks outside from the fleeing killer?"

Akina, a tall, brown-haired woman in her late twenties, rubbed the bridge of her pert little nose with long slender fingers. "I don't know Yassine. We've been at this for hours now. It's gotta be..." She looked down at her watch. "It's almost two now, and we've got nothing. We know what the coroner's report is going to say, that was plain enough. We just don't have anything else."

Yassine pictured the crime scene as they'd found it. The house was undisturbed, nothing missing, nothing broken. The door hadn't been forced, and there were no signs of a struggle. Mom and dad had found the body when they'd come home from a trip to Kyoto with the victim's younger sisters around eight forty-five this morning.

When Yassine and Akina had reached the back bedroom, they'd found the body exactly as the mother had described it. Lying face down on his bed on bloodstained sheets, fully clothed minus the shoes. Mommy hadn't gone any further into the room before she'd called the police. She had been wailing mournfully when Yassine arrived. That always broke her heart.

When Yassine had stepped into the room and examined the body, the first thing that hit her was the smell. Corpses often voided their bowels and bladder shortly after death. At least it was a fresh corpse. Old bodies could turn even her veteran stomach. Upon performing a quick examination of the body, she'd found two entry wounds near the base of the victim's skull and nothing else. The wounds sat vertically, one wound about a half inch above the other. It had been a larger caliber pistol, and the exit wounds had nearly destroyed his face. _Definitely going to have a closed casket_ _funeral on this one. _There were burns on his scalp around the wounds, ostensibly from muzzle flash, meaning that the killer had shot him point blank; from less than a foot away.

The execution-like style of the killings pointed towards the Yakuza, or the Triads. The kid lived in Oni territory, though his mother denied his affiliation with any gangs or criminal organizations. She'd have to check with the guys over in GnO. GnO stood for Gang's and Organized, or the Special Taskforce for Street Gangs and Organized Crime. It was a ridiculously long acronym, hence the name GnO.

Regardless, the young man hadn't been randomly killed. Someone had wanted him dead, and him specifically. The problem was that there was no evidence yet. They might turn up a suspicious fingerprint, but she doubted it. If they remembered to pick up their shell-casings after capping the kid (double-tap in the back of the head, mob style), they probably remembered to put on gloves and to not touch shit.

Now, it was five hours later, and family and body were out of the house. Mom, dad and sister's over at grandma's house, body at the Juuban General Hospital Morgue. That left Yassine, Akina and a few Forensic Investigator's snooping around and trying to figure out who could have done this. So far, they had nothing. Frustration finally overwhelming her nearly limitless patience, Yassine let her thick black hair out of it's ponytail, and took her glasses off. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she said, "Okay, this is getting us nowhere. We'll talk to the family again tomorrow, see if he had any enemies; anyone who might have been angry at him. We should find out if there's a girlfriend too." She shook her head, and muttered, "If you ask me, it's just another damn gang shooting. You know the kid is Red Oni."

"Of course he is. There's no way a 3 Serpents did this though. There would have been a fight of some kind, or he would have been shot right in the doorway. Most likely it would have been a drive-by." Akina said, standing near the bed.

"Well, I'm almost of a mind to say that we might be looking for a professional. Everything is just too sterile for this to have been some street thug. Anyway, I think we're done here for today."

Akina nodded her head, glad to be done with the fruitless searching. "So what do we do now?"

"Now, we go have lunch, and wait for the scientists to call with news...hopefully a fingerprint match with a violent criminal or something like that. And when I say violent criminal, I mean one other than the dead one we just hauled off in a meat wagon." Yassine tucked her glasses into their protective case and slipped them into the pocket of her stylish gray suitcoat. She wore a nice, but functional dark gray skirt suit with a sheer white blouse. The skirt was long enough to be decent, but short enough that she could hike it up and run if she absolutely had to.

With that in mind, her footwear was a pair of stylish, but functional black leather shoes with half-inch heels. She hated running though. In fact, if it didn't involve her and another naked female, she quite detested any sort of physical activity. The only reason she wasn't a slovenly fat woman was because Akina knew where she lived, and would pound on the door until she opened it and agreed to go to the gym and work off whatever god-awful junk she'd been eating.

Turning away from the crime scene, she walked out of the house and over to her car. Akina got in on the passenger side, and buckled on her seat belt. "So, where do we eat?"

Yassine thought about it for a moment, then said, "How about Greek food?"

"You always want Greek food."

"What's not to want? C'mon, Pastitsio Il Greek and braised leg of lamb in garlic and lemon sauce on me. A couple shots of Ouzo to keep us on our toes."

"You always fart after you eat Greek food."

Yassine grinned and rolled her window down. "Ventilation."

Akina rolled her eyes, and said, "Okay, fine."

* * *

I'm sitting ata small table ina Chinese restaurant in North Juuban, eating a plate of Mongolian lamb and rice. I woke up with only a small hangover this morning, for which I'm grateful. I'm in the middle of taking a sip of my tea when my pager goes off. I check the number, then pull my cell phone out and call. Half a ring in, the kid answers. "Hello?"

"You need something?" I ask.

"Yeah. I'll be over at the Mid Tokyo Mall, in parking level C. Blue pickup."

"Forty-five minutes." I tell him.

The kid is silent for a moment, then says, "Forty-five minutes? I'm supposed to be somewhere by then. Can you get here in fifteen?"

It's always funny to me when customers try to get me on their clock. In this business, the customer is right until I say he's not. And he'll still bring his business back to me. "Forty-five. I'm eating."

The kid sighs, and then says, "Alright, I'll be there. I need a twenty."

I flip my phone closed and take another sip of tea. Tucking into my food, I savor each bite that goes into my mouth. I'm in no hurry. After I've finished my meal, I pay and leave a healthy tip for the waitress. Walking outside, I get into my car, which is parked at the curb. I turn the engine over, and buckle my seatbelt. Off to work I go. It should be a profitable day.

Drugs are always profitable, because an addict is always reliable. They always need their fix. The reason that I always deal my crack away wholesale to the gangbangers and clockers is because crackheads are usually poor. Half the time, they don't have all the money you need, then you have to front them, and of course they can't pay that either. It leads to all kinds of unpleasantness.

Rich kids, on the other hand, are great customers. That's why I work the campus' so much. There are always kids with money who want to throw the best party with the best blow, and I have the means to make that happen. Rolling down the window as I pull onto the freeway, I light a cigarette and inhale deeply. I feel the burn in the back of my throat as the hot smoke rolls down into my lungs, and then I blow it back out.

It's a disgusting habit, really. But it goes so well with alcoholism. By the time I finish my smoke, I'm almost to my exit. Keeping an eye out, I transfer lanes. A moment later, I'm coasting down the off ramp, bleeding speed until I reach the main street that runs through downtown Juuban. I pass through downtown, until I come to the malls. I hit the Mid-Tokyo Mall parking lot, and drive to the subterranean parking levels. Level C, blue pickup.

I know the kid's voice. I know all their voices, their names, their faces. As I pull alongside his truck, I notice that there's a little hotty sitting in the passenger seat. I get out of my car and come to his window. He says, "What's up, man?" and holds up his hand for a homie handshake, like he's my boy or something. What the hell, I ain't a cockblocker.

I humor the kid, and make him look good in front of the girl, performing a simple handshake that I know he knows. He's actually one of my more tolerable customers. He knows who he can trust in my presence, and he never says my name in front of someone I don't know. Generally, I make it a rule never to let anyone I don't know to come with a customer, but in Toji's case I make an exception.

"Here you go." I drop the sac of cocaine in his lap, and palm the money he gives me. I won't bother counting it until I'm in my car. He's never shorted me before, and he won't start now. He's seen first hand what happens. "You have yourself a good evening Toji...miss." I nod my head to the lady, and flash her a smile, which she returns. Repeating the handshake with Toji, I say, "You drive careful now, you hear? Lot's of crazy folks out there."

Toji reply's, "Thanks man. I will."

As he begins backing out, I hear his girlfriend say, "So who is that guy?"

True to form, Toji responds, "Never asked his name. Safer that way." It's bullshit, he knows my name perfectly well. He's just one of the smart ones.

I get in my car and quickly count the cash. After verifying what I already knew, I tuck the cash into a small money bag and shove it under my passenger seat. I turn the car on, and am about to throw it into reverse, when I hear something strike the back of my car...like something breaking a taillight. I glance in my rearview, and see a man standing behind my car, wearing a dark gray three-piece suit and a long black overcoat. In his right hand is a crowbar, which he brings down on the trunk of my car. I throw the door open, grabbing my pistol from under my seat, and step out, intent on teaching this motherfucker a lesson. I walk around the car, and am faced with the last thing I expected to see here.

* * *

"Why do I always gotta come along on these stupid shopping trips?" Ranma groused, his voice muffled because of the tower of boxes and bags he carried.

Nabiki said, "Because Ranma-baby, you're so big and strong. And you're ever-so-slowly working off your debt to me.

"Whatever." He muttered back. "Hey Naomi, how far to your car?"

"We're almost there." Naomi looked over at the walking pile of merchandise and marveled at the feat of strength and balance. The kid was simply amazing. She was about to comment on this, mostly to enjoy Ranma's embarrassment, when several loud bangs rang out from the parking level beneath them. Naomi jumped, startled, and said, "What was that?"

The pile of goods that Ranma carried toppled, and Nabiki and Naomi could see a frown on his face. "It sounded like gunfire. From more than one gun." Neither girl questioned how he knew this, but both set off after him as he dashed towards the ramp that led down to the next level. As they turned the corner at the bottom of the ramp, a car whipped by them, it's tires screeching as it fish-tailed around the corner and sped off. Now all three of them put on an extra burst of speed, the picture growing more and more grim .

A sick feeling settled into Nabiki's stomach, as she realized what she was likely to encounter. She'd seen people beaten up before...hell, she'd seen folks beaten bloody. But she'd never seen a person who'd been murdered before. They finally came upon an idling sports car, the rear of which was spattered with blood. Nabiki's heart was pounding in her ears as she stared at the car. "Oh kami...no." A trail of blood led away from the car, and behind another one. Ranma's gaze passed back and forth between the blood on the car and the blood on the ground, his face ashen.

Naomi whispered, "This is Keona's car."

Nabiki began to follow the trail of blood. Her ears perked at the sound of labored breathing, and she picked up her pace. She followed the crimson droplets, and when she came to the end of the short trail, her hand flew to her mouth. She dropped to her knees by Keona's side, and looked down at the cellphone lying on the ground next to him. There was blood all over it, and all over him. She whimpered softly as her eyes passed over the bloody hole in his stomach.

His eyes were half-closed, and he stared vacantly at the door of the car opposite him. Reaching out and taking one of his bloody hands in her smaller, pale ones, she said, "Keona-baby, it's me, Nabiki." Getting no response, she reached up with one hand and gently touched his face. "Keona, can you hear me? It's Nabiki. I'm here." Her voice began to waver at the end, and she could feel tears welling up in her eyes. Her vision began to blur, and she could barely hear Naomi praying softly behind her.

Nabiki felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Ranma standing over her. He said, "We need to get him to a hospital, fast. I'd carry him, but I think that kind of trip would be too much for him."

Naomi said, "His car is fast! Get him up, come on!" as she grabbed for his cell phone. Nabiki felt herself being pushed out of the way, as Ranma picked up the wounded young man in front of her. She followed him to Keona's car, and pushed the seat forward so that Ranma could lay him in the back seat. Nabiki got in after Keona was put in, and sat on the back seat, resting Keona's head in her lap. His eyes were closed now, and his breathing was becoming shallower.

"Oh no, not now...don't do this Keona." Nabiki's voice started to break, and she began to cry silently as Naomi backed out and whipped the car around. In less than a minute, they were speeding through Juuban, towards the hospital. Nabiki was stroking Keona's hair gently, talking to him in a soft voice, when he opened his eyes briefly. Nabiki's breath caught in her throat as he unleashed a brilliant smile on her.

Reaching up with one bloody hand, he touched her face, and an expression of wonder replaced the smile. "Angel." His voice was so soft that Nabiki wasn't sure she'd heard him right at first. "Are you taking me to heaven?" He croaked hoarsely, his voice weak.

Nabiki smiled down at him, and brushed away a tear that fell from her chin to land on his cheek. "No Keona. I'm keeping you here with me." It seemed like the right thing to say, and she was heartened to see that it prompted another smile from Keona.

"Okay." His whispered reply caressed her ears like a gentle breeze, and she felt the tears begin to flow even faster as he closed his eyes again.

When they reached the hospital, Naomi ran inside to get help while Ranma and Nabiki got Keona out of the car. Ranma was holding his limp body in his arms when the doctors and nurses came with a gurney. Ranma laid him gently on it, and then the doctors rushed off. Nabiki followed them into the hospital, and up to the fourth floor in an express elevator, her hand in Keona's until they reached a set of double doors with a sign that read "Operating Room" above them. There, a male nurse politely informed Nabiki that she could wait in the waiting room, before pointing her in the right direction. As the doors swung closed, Nabiki turned and walked woodenly to the waiting area. She sat down heavily in one of the chairs, and put her head in her hands.

"Are you okay, Nabiki?"

She looked up into Ranma's concerned face, and said, "I don't think so." She began to dissolve into tears again, and Ranma quickly took the seat next to her and put his arms around her. In almost any other situation, that would never have happened. But Ranma knew this wasn't a normal situation, and Nabiki couldn't care less at the moment. What was important was that she needed a shoulder to cry on, and Ranma was providing that right now. A few minutes later, when she'd exhausted her current reservoir of tears, she sat back and wiped her tear-streaked cheeks. "Sorry Ranma."

"S'okay. I understand." Ranma stood up, and then looked down at his hands, obviously trying to avoid Nabiki's gaze. "So uh, someone should probably call the dojo and let them know what's going on.

Naomi appeared from around the corner, and said, "Already did it. They're on their way."

Nabiki's eyes widened, and she said, "They're coming here? Why?"

Naomi shrugged, and said, "Don't know. I just told them that a close friend of yours had been shot, and that you were waiting for word on him. Kasumi said they'd be right down."

Nabiki sighed, and leaned her head back against the wall. Closing her eyes, she said, "One of you should go downstairs and wait for them."

Ranma said, "I'll go." Patting Nabiki on the shoulder, he said, "He'll be okay Nabiki." Seeing that Nabiki looked ready to burst into tears again, Ranma beat a hasty retreat to the elevators, leaving the two young women alone in the waiting area.

Naomi sat down next to Nabiki, and said, "You must really like him if you're this broken up over it."

Nabiki laughed mirthlessly, and replied, "I don't even know Naomi. I can't make sense of it. All I know is that seeing him like that hurt so bad." Her voice was thick with tears again, and she swallowed several times, trying to work past the lump in her throat. Finally, she tearfully uttered, "I don't want him to die."

Naomi stared at her friend, and then wrapped her in a comforting embrace. She didn't know what to make of this. Nabiki had never shown this much emotion over anyone. Granted, she'd never found a prospective boyfriend shot nearly to death, but even so; the way she was carrying on, you'd think her husband had died or something. Shock overwhelmed her suddenly, as Naomi realized that must be it. Nabiki was already falling in love with the guy! That was impossible though. She'd only seen him a few times, and Naomi was sure that Nabiki hadn't given it up yet. Still, there was that love at first sight thing.

One of her uncles had gone to Hong Kong on vacation, and had met a beautiful Chinese girl in a park. He'd tried to talk to her, but discovered that she didn't speak Japanese, and he had very little Chinese. Even so, something magical had happened, and they'd managed to instantly fall in love anyway. Three days later, he'd called her father to tell him that he wouldn't be coming back to Japan. That had been before Naomi had been born. Her uncle still lived in Hong Kong with his wife and three children. He spoke much better Chinese now.

Naomi sighed, and began absently rubbing her friends back. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was love at first sight. Maybe they were soul mates or something. That would be rich. An upper-class girl descended from a long line of Samurai ancestor's marrying a no-name orphan who dealt drugs and carried a gun. After a few minutes, Nabiki's latest round of tears came to an end, and Naomi release her. "Better?"

Nabiki shook her head. "No. I'll be better when they come out here and tell me he's going to be fine." Naomi couldn't think of an appropriate reply, so she settled for silence. That was the way that the rest of the family found them.

Kasumi and Akane both rushed forward at the sight of their sister covered in blood. It was all over her shirt, and was covering her jeans from waist to knee. Naomi quickly moved out of the way as Nabiki's sisters embraced her, and the crying began anew. As she watched her friend melt down yet again, Naomi heard someone clearing his throat behind her. She turned around, and said, "Hi Mr. Tendo."

Soun said, "What happened to my baby girl?" His eyes were red from crying, and Naomi desperately hoped he wouldn't lose it here. One crying Tendo was enough.

"Nothing, Mr Tendo. She's fine. Her boyfriend though..." She broke off, and she shuddered at the memory of the gaping wound in Keona's stomach.

Soun nodded slowly, and then said, "Boyfriend? You mean that Keona boy?" When Naomi nodded, a downcast expression fell over Soun's face. "Poor boy." He walked over to Nabiki, and crouched in front of her.

Nabiki had been tearfully explaining everything to her sisters when her father stopped in front of her. She stopped in her explanation, and launched herself at her father. For the first time since her mother had died, Nabiki found solace in her father's arms. A comfort that felt completely alien to Nabiki began to seep into her soul, as her father held her tight and murmured softly in her ear that it was going to be okay. After a time, she said, "I'm so sorry Daddy. But I'm so scared. I've never...I mean, I can't..."

"Shhh...I know Nabiki." Soun continued holding his middle daughter, feeling like a real father for the first time in years. It broke his heart to see her in such pain over this boy. She'd barely known him two weeks, and already she was falling hard for him. That was how it had been with him and his Yuriko. Well, for him anyway. It had taken Yuri a while to finally warm up to Soun. Of course, she might simply have been traumatized at the sight of a friend being wounded so. Soun had seen the damage that firearms were capable of inflicting on a human body more than once, and they were still some of his most horrific memories. For his little girl to have witnessed something so awful...it was beyond his ability to put into words.

Akane watched her father hold her sister, and then looked at Kasumi. Her sister was looking back at her, and she shook her head sadly. She was about to say something, when a doctor stepped into the room, holding a plastic bag. Looking around, he caught sight of Nabiki. She lifted her head, and stood from her father's embrace, hope shining in her eyes. She approached the doctor and stood expectantly in front of him.

"You're the one who brought him in, correct, Ms...?"

Nabiki nodded her head, and said, "Tendo Nabiki. And his name is Keona."

The doctor nodded perfunctorily, and said, "Ms. Tendo, I'll be frank. He's lucky to have made it to the hospital, much less through surgery. The bullet missed anything vital, but he was bleeding profusely, and was nearly dry when we got him on the table. We removed the bullet and bandaged the wound, and now we just have to wait."

Nabiki said, "But it didn't hit anything vital? He should be okay then, right?"

The doctor sighed, knowing that the hard part was coming. "Ms. Tendo, I'm afraid there are some...complications." Before going any further, he said, "Are you his next of kin?"

That gave Nabiki pause. She suddenly remembered that he had an adoptive sister. "Aiko." She muttered softly.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing." Nabiki replied. She knew that the doctor wouldn't tell her anymore if she didn't say she was family. She just couldn't think of anything to tell him. Finally, she blurted out the only thing that came to her grief-addled mind. "I'm his wife."

Although you were supposed to ask for some kind of proof, the doctor could see the genuine grief the young woman was feeling, and didn't doubt her claim for a second. "Then you are aware that he was shot previously." Nabiki fought to keep the shock from her face, as the doctor continued.

"The four wounds on his chest look to be little more than two months old. After an MRI, we determined that one of his lungs was hit in the last shooting and has not completely healed. The strain of getting enough oxygen to his brain to keep him alive through this ordeal has left his lung barely functioning, and his immune system is going to be at an all time low while his body works double time to heal all the damage that's been done."

"What does that mean?" Nabiki's voice was small, and she was trembling like a leaf. Her legs felt wobbly, and her head was swimming.

"The gunshot wound itself won't kill him now, we've made sure of that. But he's at very high risk for an infection with his immune system being depleted as badly as it is." The doctor pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, and said, "We've got him on some fairly strong antibiotics right now, and we're hoping that will keep the infections away. I'd say if we can get three fever-free days out of him, we'll be in the clear."

Nabiki relaxed visibly, and said, "Can I see him?"

The doctor nodded, and said, "He's being taken to a private room in the ICU right now. It's on the second floor. Head down there and let the orderly in the nurse's station know that you're there for Keona. I'll call down and make sure they let you in."

"Thank you." Nabiki smiled at the helpful doctor gratefully.

"You're welcome." Holding the bag out, he said, "Here's his belongings. I'll be down in a few hours to check on him. My name is Dr. Ishikawa, by the way."

Nabiki took the bag, and said, "Okay." Nabiki watched the doctor walk away, and then turned to Naomi and her family. Approaching them slowly, she said, "Dr. Ishikawa said that he made it through surgery, and that the bullet missed anything vital."

Naomi said, "So he's going to recover?"

Nabiki, feeling much calmer now than she had only minutes earlier, said, "Dr. Ishikawa said that...he said that Keona had been shot before, four times." She paused to let that information sink in.

Kasumi uttered a stunned, "Oh my!"

"Dr. Ishikawa said that he'd been shot in one of his lungs last time, and that it was badly damaged from trying to pump enough blood to keep him alive this time. His immune system is pretty bad right now." She paused again and took a deep breath. "The Doctor says that he's at high risk for an infection. He says they've got medicine in him already, and if he can go three days without getting an infection, he should be fine."

Akane stepped closer to her older sister, and said, "Are you going to be okay?"

Nabiki nodded, and said, "Yeah, I'll be fine." She looked down at her hands, and said, "I need to go wash up, and then I have to make a few phone calls. Why don't you guys go back home, get something to eat or something. I'm going to stay here for a while." Bag in hand, Nabiki walked towards the door that said: "Women's Room" on it. Stepping inside, she walked to the sink and took off her sweatshirt. Her t-shirt underneath was relatively clean, but the sweatshirt was a write-off. She balled it up and stuffed it in the garbage, before covering it with some paper towels.

After washing the blood off of her hands and arms, she looked at herself in the mirror. There was a smear of dried blood on her right cheek, where Keona had touched her face in the car. 'Angel', he'd called her. He'd thought she was an angel. She turned the water on again, and washed the blood off of her face, and then dried herself off with a few sheets of paper towel. She looked down at her jeans, which were still covered in dried blood. She'd have to ask if she could get a pair of scrub pants or something.

Once she'd finished cleaning herself up as best she could, Nabiki headed back to the waiting area. Setting the plastic bag of Keona's belongings down, she pulled out his wallet. Opening it up, she began going through it. There was money, which she left alone. No credit cards, no ID. But wait...slipping a white business card out of a card pocket in the wallet, Nabiki read the name and grinned. "Hotatsu Aiko". It was for Butsuri and Sons, one of the largest banking firms in Tokyo. Looking around, she saw a courtesy phone hanging on a wall a few feet away. Nabiki picked up the phone and dialed the number on the card.

After several rings, someone on the other end picked up. A pleasant female voice said, "Butsuri and Son's financial, office of Butsuri Kenji, how may I assist you?"

Nabiki's mouth went dry, as she said, "Um...I'm looking for Hotatsu Aiko."

"This is she." Came the response from the other end.

Nabiki sighed, and said, "Are you Keona's sister?"

There was a moment of deafening silence, and then a soft and resigned, "What happened this time? Is this the police?"

Nabiki fought to keep her voice under control as she said, "No, it's not the police. My name is Tendo Nabiki...I'm a friend of Keona's. We're at the hospital, he's..."

"Oh no, what happened?" Aiko's voice had suddenly turned almost panicky, and Nabiki could hear her ramping up over the phone.

"He was hurt. Someone shot him, but they said..."

Again she was cut off, as Aiko nearly shouted, "Where are you?"

"Juuban General. He's in the ICU."

"I'll be there in ten minutes!" There was a click on the other line, and Nabiki pulled the handset away from her ear and looked at it. She hung up the phone, picked up Keona's stuff again, and walked to the elevators. Pressing the button for the second floor, she tried to make sense of her suddenly unbalanced emotions. Two floors isn't much time to think however, and she found herself moving again in a few seconds. She followed the signs that pointed to the ICU, and finally found a set of doors that said, "Intensive Care Unit". Taking a deep breath, she pushed past the doors and into the ICU.

* * *

Aiko stepped up to the nurse's station in the Intensive Care Unit. "I'm here to see Keona."

The woman sitting in the station looked up and said, "Name?"

"Hotatsu Aiko." Aiko fidgeted, waiting for the nurse to check the list of names that had been left.

"Ah yes, here you are. He's in room 233." The woman leaned out of the nurses station and pointed down the hall to her left. "It's down that way."

"Thank you." Aiko went down the hall that the nurse had indicated, and after a few minutes, she found room 233. She steeled herself for what she knew from experience she'd see inside. Then she opened the door. There was Kiki, lying on his back in a hospital bed, his eyes closed. There was a respirator and a respirator tube near the bed, but thankfully he was breathing on his own. The covers were pulled up to his chest, and he looked so peaceful. Then there was the girl.

A beautiful, brown-haired girl sitting next to her little brother's bed and holding his hand. At the sound of the door opening, she looked up. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, and she had what looked like a death grip on Kiki's hand. She smiled wanly up at Aiko, and said, "You must be Aiko." She stood up and bowed politely. "I'm Tendo Nabiki."

Aiko bowed back, and said, "Hotatsu Aiko. I'm his sister."

"I know." Nabiki's voice was soft, and she glanced over at Keona. Looking back at Aiko, she said, "I can leave you two alone for a while if you want."

Aiko thought about asking her to leave for a moment, but then decided against it. She obviously cared something for him, and she didn't look like Keona's usual type. That alone scored points with Aiko. "No, it's okay. You can stay." Moving to take a seat on the opposite side of the bed from Nabiki's chair, Aiko said, "What happened?"

Nabiki was saddened by the lack of shock in Aiko's voice. It was almost like she expected something like this to happen. Judging by the fact that it apparently already had, she could understand why. "I've been...seeing him for a little while, but I wasn't supposed to see him today. I was over at the mall with my friend and my brother-in-law, and we heard gunshots from the parking garage. We just found him there."

Aiko sat still for a moment, and then looked over at Keona. Not taking her eyes off of him, she said, "Did you find anything with him?"

"His cell phone. I think Naomi might have grabbed it. I can call her and get it from her."

"Anything else?" Aiko asked.

Nabiki's eyes narrowed. Aiko was fishing for something, of that she was certain. And while she couldn't be absolutely sure what she was inquiring after, she hazarded an educated guess. "You mean his gun?"

Aiko's eyes popped open at Nabiki's response to her question, but she nodded after a moment. "Yes, his gun."

"No. I'm sorry, I didn't think about it." The wheels began to turn, and Nabiki realized that if his gun was still in the parking garage, then the police could find it. That was probably not a good thing. "I'll call someone...wait...Naomi." Nabiki pulled out her cell phone, and said, "Give me a minute. I'll call the friend who was with me. She can go look." Dialing Naomi's number, she waited several seconds for her friend to answer.

"Hello?"

"Naomi? It's Nabiki. I need you to do me a big favor." Nabiki crossed her fingers, and hoped her friend would agree to do it.

"You're asking me for a favor? You realize that I don't owe you anything, right?"

Nabiki sighed, and said, "Naomi, please. You're my best friend, and I really need your help."

"Alright, fine...what do you need?"

"Something is missing from Keona's bag. Actually two things. One is his cell phone."

"Yeah, I grabbed that. Sorry, I forgot to give it to you. I'll bring it to the hospital later."

"Thanks Naomi. But there was something else missing too. Something that we might have missed."

"Like what?" Naomi asked.

"What did we hear?"

"Oh shit!"

"Yeah...I need you to go find it for me." Nabiki said.

"What? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No, I'm dead serious. I need you to get it."

Naomi muttered, "You owe me for this Tendo." Then she hung up.

Nabiki turned to Aiko, and said, "It's being retrieved."

Aiko looked up at Nabiki and said, "Do you have any idea what he does? Why he got shot?"

Nabiki sat down at Keona's bedside and took up his hand again. She nodded her head, and said, "I know what he does."

"And that doesn't bother you at all?" Aiko asked, surprised at this.

Nabiki shook her head, and said, "Not so much. I know that he can do better. And he would, if he was given the opportunity." She didn't know why she was saying these things, but she felt that they were true.

Aiko snorted, and said, "And who's going to give it to him?"

Nabiki thought about it for a moment. Although she'd done much to help her family, it had always been at someone else's expense, and often caused some kind of humiliation or distress to the parties involved. For the first time in a while, she was faced with a situation in which she thought she could really help someone. She'd had it with Ranma, but had blown it right away. She wouldn't do that now. For some reason, Keona felt special to her in a way that no one else ever had. She almost felt like some ridiculous schoolgirl from one of her manga.

Finally, Nabiki looked Aiko in the eye, and said, "I will."


	6. The Road of Life

Thanks to those who have reviewed this story. I appreciate the feedback. Thanks also to everyone who has continued to read. All those hits are pretty good feedback in themselves. The next chapter might be a little while in coming, as I've got to work on the next chapter for my Star Wars fic. Hopefully I'll get chapter seven up within the next week or two.

* * *

I've been down this road before. It's dark all around me, and I can't see the end. I'm exhausted, but something tells me that if I stop to rest, I'll never get moving again. As I walk, the loneliness and the fear begins to set in, but I welcome them like old friends. They are comfortable and familiar feelings. They are what I know. I know anger too, and hatred, and pain. I've seen happiness. I want to see it when I look in the mirror. But I can't have that. That's not what I'm meant for. I know this. Step after step, the knowledge of this truth plagues my thoughts, clinging to my consciousness with the tenacity of a desperate mother clinging to her child in a flood. I wonder briefly if I'm dying, but then dismiss the thought. I don't think I'd be so coherent.

I almost died once, but I don't remember what it was like. I was drunk when they shot me, and barely got my gun out before I felt the first slug break the skin of my chest. After that, the only thing I felt was pain. And then it all went black. I smile grimly to myself, and keep putting one foot in front of the other. I try to remember where I know this place from, but the memory evades me. "That's because you're an idiot, shithead."

I stop and whirl around, and come face to face with...myself. I try to say something, but this is so far beyond the realm of normalcy that I find myself speechless for the first time in a long time. I've always got something to say, even if I don't say it.

"Keona shot in the torso Version 2.0. I have to say, the new program doesn't seem to be much of an improvement."

I finally find my voice, and say, "What the fuck is going on? Who are you?"

The other me laughs, long and loud, his voice grating on my nerves. Because it's my voice, and it's laughing at me. "I'm you, asshole. And you have no idea how embarrassing that is to admit."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"C'mon, Kiki. Don't tell me we're that fucking slow. I had higher hopes for us than that." He shakes his head, and then says, "You stopped walking, Kiki. That's bad."

I feel the anger building inside me as I realize that he's right. I've stopped. "That's your fault. You were talking to me."

"Actually, it's your fault, and you were talking to yourself. Still are, might I add. Fucking nutcase."

"FUCK YOU!" I scream, and I force myself to begin walking again. It's hard, and I feel like I'm moving through water now, but I push ahead. Seconds later, there he is in front of me. The fake.

"No, Keona, fuck you. You're killing us, you stupid bastard. Did you know that? You're killing us. Takai saved our ass once, when he knocked on the door and surprised us. But no one else is going to surprise us. You know what you did, you stupid fuck, and you know what it's gonna cause." He looks angry now, and his left cheek is twitching, just below the eye. I know what that means.

"It ain't caused shit. I'm here ain't I?" I ask, my arms thrown wide.

"Actually, Kiki...you're not supposed to be here. But you're lucky you are."

"Where am I supposed to be then? What am I supposed to be doing?"

Now the fake gives the best Keona performance I've seen all night. He hangs his head, and sighs deeply, and when he looks back up, the fatigue and apathy on his face is startling. "I don't know Kiki. I don't know what we're supposed to do. But it ain't this." He shakes his head, and begins walking slowly along with me. "We're dying Kiki. We're dying again."

"What do you mean, we're dying. I'm right here, walking." I say, incredulous. He looks like me, and he sounds like me, but he's talking crazy.

"No man, that's just it. You're not here. I'm not here."

"Then where am I?"

"You're on the edge Keona."

* * *

"You're on the edge Keona. That's what the doctor says. I don't believe him though. I know that you'll pull through just fine." Nabiki's voice was soft, and Aiko couldn't help but feel bad for disturbing the scene. No one else was in the room, and Aiko had left several hours earlier to get a change of clothes for herself, and for Nabiki as well. The young woman had yet to leave the hospital in the four days that Keona had been...asleep. She held her peace for a moment, almost needing to hear the words that Nabiki was speaking to her surviving brother.

She'd been a bit shocked when the doctor had referred to Keona as Nabiki's husband, but Nabiki had explained everything. It was still odd, and even more odd was seeing the name Tendo on Keona's medical records. Keona had never bothered coming up with a last name, because he was a runaway; he'd never been legal. Not until late last year, when he'd turned twenty. She'd used one of his alias' for him when he'd been shot last time...but then, she was there that time. She wasn't there for this one.

Nabiki continued on, unaware that she now had an audience. "I'm sorry that this happened to you...and I'm sorry that you have so much hanging over you. I always thought that Ranma had it tough. You know, you two would get along great. He had a hard life too. His father covered him in fish sausage and threw him in a pit of starving cats when he was seven, hoping to teach him a secret martial arts technique called the Nekoken." Aiko almost gave herself away with a gasp when she heard that. She'd met Ranma once, when he'd brought Nabiki some clothes and food a couple days ago. He'd been a bit skittish around Nabiki, but had seemed a nice enough young man. He certainly showed no signs of such trauma that could see.

"When you wake up, I'll have to introduce you two properly. He could learn a lot from you, you know. And you could learn a lot from him. Besides, if he hadn't have been there, we never would have gotten you into your car in time. You're not the lightest guy in the world." Nabiki took a deep breath, and then said, "I want you to wake up for me too though, because I'm selfish like that. I want another goodnight kiss. And...I have a feeling that you're something special. And my instincts have never failed me."

Aiko chose that moment to announce herself, closing the door firmly, and saying, "I'm back!"

Nabiki stood up and turned around. "Oh, Aiko. We were just talking."

Aiko forced herself to keep a straight face as she glanced at her comatose brother, and said, "Oh? What about?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just telling him what's been going on the last couple of days." Nabiki said, her expression neutral, and her tone utterly convincing. Had Aiko not been in the room and heard the truth of the words being spoken, she'd have instantly believed Nabiki. She was a good liar. She was a very good liar. She put even Keona to shame, and his was a rare talent indeed.

Still, she had no desire to reveal her eavesdropping. She honestly liked Nabiki, and what she'd just heard Nabiki saying to Keona only built on that feeling. "Well, I don't see how you have any news to report. You've been here for four days." She smiled at the girl warmly, glad that she had stayed. She'd helped keep Aiko's spirits up when she'd felt them flagging. Holding out the bag in her hand, she said, "I was going home to get myself some clothes, so I stopped by the store and got you an outfit. It's not much, but it's clean, and I know you don't want to leave...it's the least I could do."

Nabiki took the bag and looked at it. She looked back up at Aiko, and said, "Thank you." Impulsively, she hugged the other woman. It wasn't something she'd done in a long time, hugging someone. She hardly ever hugged her own sisters. But all the same, it felt right. Pulling away, she said, "Really, thank you." Looking back at Keona, lying in the bed, she said, "I just couldn't believe it when we got down there...and it was him. I couldn't believe it. He'd just dropped me off at home, at like, four in the morning that day. And then there he was, not even twelve hours later." Her voice was small, and her unblinking gaze never left Keona as she spoke.

Aiko said, "I was there the first time. I watched him go down, and our brother die. He was shot in the head. I had another brother, a biological brother. Yasuo. Did you know that?"

Nabiki nodded her head, trying to keep the sympathy from showing on her face. "Keona told me a little about him. Not how he died though."

"It was a drive-by." Aiko said, taking a seat next to Keona's bed. Nabiki sat down on the other side, and Aiko continued. "It was about seven in the evening. It was warm out still, and the sun was just below the horizon. I'll never forget it. Sunday, May 17. Yasuo was just coming home from a friends house, and Keona was walking out to meet him..."

* * *

Aiko followed Keona outside, watching as he sat down on the front steps, forty in one hand, sandwich in the other. He was shirtless, and she had to admit that he was an attractive male specimen, even if she had raised him. His muscles were well-defined, but not too large, and his skin was an even light tan color. The tattoo's on his arms were beautiful piece's of work, and added a certain mystique to his appearance. His thick black hair was getting a little long, and was starting to hang into those stunning green eyes of his, but it almost made him look...roguish.

She laughed inwardly. _I've been reading way too many cheesy romance novels._ She thought to herself. On his legs was a pair of baggy tan khaki's and his feet were encased in a pair of white socks and Adidas sandals. She frowned as her eyes came to rest on the pistol tucked into the back waistband of his pants. It was an ever present reminder of the part of both of her brother's lives that she detested above all else.

Keona took a big bite of his sandwich, and grinned up at Aiko around a mouthful of bread, meat, cheese and veggies. "Gud fit." He mumbled around the food, which she translated as, "Good shit."

"Thanks Kiki. Don't say I never did anything for you." She smiled back at him, and ruffled his hair playfully. He hated it when she did that.

True to form, he glared up at her, and as he swallowed his mouthful, he said, "Shit, don't do that. I hate that shit. Makes me feel like a little fucking kid." He turned to face the street again, and took a long drink from his forty.

Aiko made a face at his choice of beverage, and said, "God, how can you stand that crap? It's not even beer."

"Nope...it's malt liquor. Tastes like shit, but then, you're supposed to drink it fast, before it gets warm." To demonstrate this, he tilted the bottle back again, and drained almost half of the remaining contents. After releasing a loud belch, he took another bite of his sandwich. Once he'd finished it, he stood up and drained the contents of the forty. Looking down the street, he said, "Hey, here comes Yasuo."

Aiko followed his gaze, and saw that her little brother was indeed walking up the sidewalk. He held his hand up in a wave, and began trotting towards them. When he neared the yard, he slowed to a walk, and grinned as Keona trotted down the steps to meet him. Aiko smiled at the two of them, and then glanced down the street again. She noticed a car approaching, one she didn't recognize. It's headlights were off despite the low light of evening, but at first she thought nothing of it. Then the realization of what was about to happen struck her.

"Oh no." She whispered. She was about to shout a warning, when Keona whipped his pistol out and began raising his arm. He was too late. The tinted windows of the car were already halfway down, and Aiko flinched and screamed as the men inside opened fire. Another one was sitting in the rear driver's side window, shooting over the roof. Her heart wrenched painfully in her chest as Keona's body jerked hard from the force of the bullets striking him.

She looked at Yasuo, knowing that he was going to get to safety; that he had to get to safety, only to watch in shocked horror as the side of his head exploded towards the house in a gory spray of blood and liquified brains. His body hit the pavement, twitching violently just a moment after she heard the dull thud of Keona dropping on the front yard. She looked back and forth between the two of them, her body beginning to shake uncontrollably, her heart racing. She raised trembling hands to her face, and stared at the scene before her, unblinking and unbelieving. They were dead. They were both dead.

Yasuo was still twitching, though feebly now, and a great pool of blood was quickly spreading on the sidewalk around him. Even from the front porch, she could see that his eyes were open, staring sightlessly at the darkening sky above. Keona was frightfully still, lying face down on the front lawn. She could see two great bloody holes in his back, the precious crimson fluid flowing steadily from the wounds.

Aiko slowly fell to her knees and cried out wordlessly, tears streaming down her face. She'd lost them both. Boys she'd raised from childhood, her biological brother and her adoptive brother. Yasuo had been hers to take care of since their parents had died in a car wreck when he was only eight. Keona had come into their lives only two years later, and had been an integral part of their family ever since. They were all she had, and now she'd lost them both.

"Aiko...Ai.." Her whispered name floated into her ears, and she stared at Keona, finding strength as she watched him try to roll himself over. He was alive! She dashed into the house and grabbed her cordless phone, dialing emergency services as she ran back to the yard. People were beginning to come outside now, to see who'd been shot this time. She dashed out the front door to find a new neighbor performing CPR on Keona, unheeding of the blood that was quickly covering his hands and his clothes. He was an American man, older for sure. Perhaps in his late forties.

Emergency services answered a moment later. "Emergency services, what is the nature of your emergency?"

She shouted, "My name is Hotatsu Aiko, and my brothers have just been shot in a drive-by. You have to come get them now, or they'll die!" She knew she sounded hysterical, but she couldn't help it. "I live at 63352, W. Hokio St. Please hurry!"

"We'll have an ambulance over right away." said the dispatch person. She hung up the phone and ran to the American.

He looked up at her, and said, "This is bad ma'am." A moment later he began cursing in English, as pink foam began bubbling up out of Keona's mouth and his eyes rolled back in his head. He quickly pulled off his shirt, and began tearing it up. Then he yelled over to another man, Hiroshi who lived across the street, to help him sit him up.

Looking up at Aiko, he said, "We need him sitting up so he don't drown on his own blood. The pink foam means he's been hit in the lung." As Hiroshi complied with his rather firm order, he began tying the strips of makeshift bandages around the wounds. Hiroshi's shirt was next to be shredded, and added padding and snugness to the bandages. He continued holding Keona almost upright, and said, "That's all I can do for him. I wish I had more to work with. I'm sorry."

Aiko knelt down and wrapped her arms around Keona, the tears fading as she held him. She knew that Yasuo was gone. She didn't want to believe it, but she'd known the moment it had happened. She still had Keona though, and she was going to make sure it stayed that way. She couldn't lose them both. She hadn't realized her eyes were closed until a touch on her arm opened them. She found herself looking at the American. He offered a tentative smile, and as the sound of an ambulance siren grew in the distance, he said, "I've seen lesser men survive worse."

* * *

Nabiki looked at Aiko, the tears running down her face mirroring Keona's sister's. "I'm so sorry. That's awful."

Aiko said, "It would have been worse if Jonah hadn't been there." A sad smile grew on her pretty face, and she said, "It wouldn't have been enough without the ambulance...but without Jonah, he'd have been dead before the ambulance got there."

"How did he know what to do?" Asked Nabiki.

Aiko said, "He was a Navy Corpsman with an American Marine unit in the Vietnam War."

"Corpsman? I'm not familiar with the term."

Aiko smiled, and said, "They're what Navy medics are called in the US. The US Marine Corps doesn't have it's own medics like the other branches so they rely on the Navy to provide their combat units with infantry trained Corpsmen to provide immediate medical care during combat. That's what Jonah did."

"Oh."

"We were very lucky."

Nabiki looked at Keona, and said, "I wonder what he's thinking right now. I wonder what's going on inside." She reached out a hand and brushed it against his cheek, frowning at the slight fever. He'd gotten the infection on the second day, and they'd been fighting it ever since. Doctor Ishikawa was certain that they had it on the run now, and was optimistic about the prognosis.

Aiko watched her, and sat back in her chair. Looking over at Keona, she said, "What _are_ you thinking Kiki?"

* * *

"What are you thinking, Kiki?" His voice...my voice, is grating on my nerves, killing any feeling of goodwill I may have had towards him.

"I'm thinking about how nice it was when you weren't talking." I snap back, my voice saturated with irritation.

"Now, that's not a very nice thing to say to yourself. Why don't we try something else?"

"Fuck off. I hate little pricks like you." I mutter. This guy is nothing like me. He's too fucking smug. Like a cop who thinks he's got something on you.

"You know, chronic self-loathing is often a precursor to suicidal thoughts, and eventually, attempts. Which, considering that men tend to use things like...guns, ropes, and jumping off of buildings, would probably be successful on the first try." The not-me pauses for a moment, and rubs his chin thoughtfully, as if pondering something important, before saying, "Interestingly enough, most women have to try two or three times. They're big fans of wrist-slitting and pill-popping, which, while suitably dramatic, can take too long. That gives somebody time to show up and spoil the party. Hence the much higher number of women attending suicide survivor therapy groups." He chuckles lightly and then says, "Maybe it's because we're more decisive. I don't know. Anyway, that's a road I can't let you go down. You're supposed to do great things Kiki."

Incredulous, I say, "Like what?"

"Raise your kids right, so they don't end up fucked up like you. The greatest thing a man can do."

I eye him suspiciously, and say, "I don't have any kids."

"You will eventually if you don't fuck this up." He replies, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

"If I don't fuck what up?" I ask.

Glancing at me briefly, he says, "Just keep walking Kiki."

* * *

Akihito sat on the large veranda in his backyard, watching his 17 year old daughter and a group of her friends lounging around the pool. He smiled to himself as he watched her, wondering where the years had gone. It seemed like it was just yesterday that she'd been a babe in arms, small enough for him to carry 'football style' as an American friend of his called it; head in hand, body laying on the forearm, feet at the crook of his elbow. Now she was five and a half feet tall, stunningly beautiful, and too damn grown up for her own good. She was his life. Cancer had taken his wife four years ago, and the only family he had left was his daughter. She was the only thing he put before his other family, and that was something his bosses and rivals could never know. She was everything to him.

He was content to sit and merely enjoy her presence at his home, when his phone began ringing. His daughter looked over at the noise, as did several of her friends, and he smiled and waved to deflect their curiosity. Picking up the phone, he answered it. "Hello?"

"Takeda-san...we have a problem." It was Kokoru, one of his most capable Lieutenants.

"Of what nature?"

"A private nature." Came the terse reply.

Akihito sighed forlornly, and said, "Stop by the house. I'll be down by the pool when you come in." He had a feeling that he knew what this was about. Hiro, one of his shooters, had been missing for four days. Keona was nowhere to be found either. None of his usual alias' had turned up in any hospitals, and if he'd been shot he wouldn't have used his real name. Of course, he could be dead in the countryside, or floating in the ocean somewhere, but somehow he doubted it. Hiro would have reported back by now. He'd called the night before he'd gone missing to report that Keona had stopped by Oni territory and entered someone's house. The next day, police were all over the place, and a corpse was brought out.

Hiro would have gone to carry out Akihito's order, and then would have called him immediately afterward to inform him that the job had been done. The fact that he hadn't was cause for concern. Now that concern was deepened by the cryptic nature of his friend's phone call. He sat on the veranda, waiting for Kokoru to arrive. It was about thirty minutes before he showed up. Akihito stood up when he heard the sliding glass door open, and smiled at his old friend. Kokoru stood in the doorway, waiting for his Captain to come inside. Akihito stepped into the game room that made up a large part of the basement of his home. It was more for his daughter and her friends than for him.

Shutting the door behind him, Akihito took a seat in a comfortable armchair. Kokoru sat down in another one adjacent to his boss', and said, "Hiro's dead. They found him in his car about ten miles outside city limits. Shot once in the leg, three times in the stomach. Our guy at the precinct said he was a bloody fucking mess."

"Keona?" Akihito inquired.

Kokoru shook his head, and replied, "No word. He could still be out there hunting Oni's for all we know."

"Fuck!" Akihito stood up and began pacing back and forth. Kokoru watched his boss intently, his gaze steady. Akihito growled in frustration, and then said, "This is getting out of hand already. Find Keona, and put a bullet in his head. Make sure it gets done." He stopped pacing and stared his subordinate straight in the eye. "This is priority fucking one on my list, got it? I want you to take care of this yourself. Get some competent backup if you think you'll need it. And there's no need to go telling everyone why they're doing it. Just see that it's done."

"You got it." Kokoru stood up, and sketched a quick bow to his boss. Akihito, too caught up in his thoughts to notice, did not return it. Kokoru left the way he came, taking the stairs up to the main level of the house and going out the front door.

Akihito cursed silently as he heard the door to the game room stairway close. "Dammit Kiki, why did you have to be so stupid."

* * *

Yassine and Akina sat in their office, glumly staring at what little information they had about the Hakiro case. About as much as they'd gotten in the house that first day. Yassine was beginning to get a headache, and she looked up at the clock on the wall, desperately hoping it was going to tell her she could go home to Reiko, the waitress who had for some reason continued coming over after that first night. Not that Yassine was complaining. It was just odd to have someone at her house when she got home. She'd had dinner ready for her when she'd gotten there yesterday. "It was my day off, so I thought I'd do something nice for you." Reiko had said by way of explanation.

Unfortunately, the clock was telling her that she had at least another three hours. Possibly more if she actually expected to make any kind of headway in this investigation. That was how it went. A whole string of girlfriends had passed her by in her short twenty-nine years, and all because of her job. Well, mostly because of her job. That's why she hadn't done the girlfriend thing in a while. Looking over at Akina, she said, "This is ridiculous. We've gotten nothing done in four days!"

Akina shrugged her shoulders, and said, "Well, at least we haven't actually had to work."

Yassine banged her head on her desk, and left it there. "I'm dying here, Akina. Seriously. I need a fucking break." Shaking her head, she said, "You know, I should pray. That's what Mama always does when she's in a pickle." She looked towards the heavens and, grasping the golden orthodox crucifix she wore around her neck, in a gesture learned from her oh-so-very Greek mother, beseeched her lord to help her in the language of her ancestors.

"Heavenly Father, why do you hate me so? What have I done to deserve this from you? I've been a good Christian! Is it too much to ask that you would give me a useful piece of evidence, something that could further the investigation, instead of just leaving me here with nothing? Why do you forsake me Father?" She hung her head dramatically, and Akina clapped enthusiastically.

"That was very impressive. I'm certain he won't be able to ignore you this time!" Akina said sarcastically. She loved Yassine's little religious performances, even though she couldn't understand a word of Greek. They were so entertaining. Of course they never worked.

_**Riiiing**_

Yassine snatched up the handset on her phone, and said, "Detective Porphyres."

The male voice on the other side was one she recognized. He was a friend of hers from ballistics, Yukio. "Hey there pretty lady. I got somethin' for ya." He said in his Kansai country accent.

Yassine's eyes grew large, and she covered the mouthpiece with her hand and said to Akina, "Yukio's got something for us!"

Akina looked stunned. The damned haranguing had worked! God had delivered! Now she'd have to fork over 2,000 yen to Yassine. She'd said it always worked for her mother. Except when she'd told her she was gay, but apparently they'd worked that out. Yassine, on the other hand, never had much luck.

Yassine said into the mouthpiece, "What is it?"

"Well, I got some bullets from a rather odd crime scene the other day. You heard 'bout the parkin' garage at the Mid Mall, right?"

"Yeah, the bloody crime scene with no guns and no bodies. They pulled bullets out of one of the walls and a car, didn't they?"

She could hear his self-satisfied grin through the phone, as he said, "Indeed they did, indeed they did. And it just so happens that the one they pulled out of the trunk of the car had striations on it that matched the ones on the bullets that killed your vic. They were fired from the same weapon, a .45 caliber pistol. Not sure what model though. Besides that, there were two blood types found at the scene. You should call over to the lab about that. You might have somethin' there."

A huge smile broke out on Yassine's face, and she said, "If you were a woman, I'd kiss you!"

Yukio laughed, and said jocularly, "If that's the only way to get you in the sack, I'll start savin' my paychecks and find me a doctor."

"Seriously though...thanks Yukio. We've been pretty stuck over here."

"No problem. You can buy me a drink the next time we all go out."

"Can do. Talk to you later."

"Bye."

Yassine hung up the phone, and grinned at Akina. "One of the bullets that was recovered from that mystery shooting in the mall parking garage was fired from the same gun that killed Hakiro Shinji. They've also got two different blood samples from the scene down at the lab, so that's something we can check on. We need to inform Lieutenant Mazaki about this as well."

Akina sighed in relief, and said, "Thank the Kami for ballistics. I'll give Mazaki a call and let him know."

As Akina started to dial their department head, Yassine leaned back in her office chair and put her delicate feet up on her desk. "So, you got my 2,000 yen?"

* * *

"Are we there yet?" I ask, trying to get a rise out of myself. The thought of that is fucking weird. Maybe I really am going crazy.

"Trust me, you'll know when you're there." That's it? That's all?

"What is this all about? Why are you here?" I ask him, still frustrated by his continuing presence.

He smirks at me, and says, "I'm here to make sure you get where you need to go."

"It ain't like I can get lost. There's only one road."

He shakes his head, as if disappointed, and says, "No Kiki. I mean in life. You need to get up, and get something man. You're failing."

"What the fuck am I supposed to get?" I ask, angry now. "I don't have anything to get! I ain't ever going to college, I didn't even finish high school! I'm good at one fucking thing, and that's slinging blow." I mutter at the end, suddenly just as disappointed as he is.

"You forgot one other thing. You're good at killing too. And you're good at getting away with it. That's two other things I guess." He says absentmindedly. "Anyway, there's always a way out. You just have to find it."

"You don't know what you're talking about." I snap, keeping my eyes on the road ahead.

"Sure I do. I'm you, remember?" He chuckles, and says, "You remember Mr. Kozaku, the counselor at Matsuzaki High School?"

I nod my head, wondering where he's going with this. "Yeah, I remember him. What about him?"

"Didn't he uh, used to be 3 Serpents?"

I suddenly remember that he's...I'm right. He _was_ a gangbanger. Still, that don't mean nothing. "So what?"

"So, he did time in jail, he was shot, he was a dealer. He still made something of himself though. Got a scholarship, went to school, and became a productive member of society. He still works at that school."

"I know he does." I reply.

"Maybe you should go talk to him. He might be able to help you out; point you in the right direction."

I turn my head to look at my companion, and say, "I ain't got a right direction. I don't think you get it man. I'm not gonna survive all this shit. Sometime, somewhere, somebody is gonna get to me. Somebody is gonna get the first shot off, and I'll be the one laid up and dying."

My counterpart shakes his head, and says, "Where do you think you are, Kiki? Why have you been dreaming for so long? Why are we talking in here? Why are you walking, and why can't you stop?"

"I don't fucking know!" I shout back, wishing that I could bust him in the mouth. Something tells me not to though.

"Well I do! I know why. You're hanging from a slender fucking thread, and the slightest tug is gonna make it snap. Everything happens here and now, Kiki. You're walking back to your life, and you have a choice to make. You can keep on going the way you have been, and we'll be meeting again a lot sooner than you'd like. Or, you can change your path. You can stop doing what you're doing, and try to atone for what you've done." He turns to me, and I finally see the concern in his features. "You're a thug, Kiki. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a thug. But you still have the potential to be so much more. You just have to realize it, and take the help that's being offered."

As I start to answer, I see a dim gray light in the distance. It delays my response for but a moment. "What help?" I wait for a moment, expecting an answer, but get none. I look around, but the other me is gone. I shrug my shoulders, and continue walking towards the light that seems to grow brighter with every step. In what seems like seconds I'm walking into it, and I have to close my eyes at the brightness.

My stomach starts to hurt badly, and my head starts to ache. I blink several times, but everything is blurry, and I'm confused. My eyes are slowly adjusting, but it's going to take a bit. I hear a steady, rhythmic beep in the background, but I try to ignore it. It's irritating. Something about the smell of the place is familiar though. Sterile, antiseptic, with a hint of iodine and copper. I'm trying to place it, when I'm distracted by a young woman's excited voice.

"Aiko, he's awake!"


	7. Ghetto Houdini

Well, it didn't take quite as long as I expected it to. Hopefully I'll be able to follow with the next chapter within a reasonable amount of time. Hope you enjoy it. Please post a review if you're so inclined.

* * *

Nabiki sat in Keona and Yasuo's old bedroom in Aiko's house, watching Keona sleep. He'd been out of the hospital for almost a week, and was recovering quickly. He was more mobile every day, and he appeared to be in good spirits for the most part. But both Nabiki and Aiko could see something dark simmering beneath the calm exterior, and it worried the both of them. Nabiki couldn't understand why Keona affected her the way he did, but she couldn't seem to keep herself away.

In the time since he'd first woken up from his four-day coma, almost two weeks ago, they'd done a great deal of talking. Nabiki had found herself opening up to him as she'd never done with anyone before. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite so forthcoming. All the same, she had a feeling that she needed to stick around. He'd need her before long.

She smiled as he groaned softly and slowly blinked his eyes open. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, and then looked over at her. "You're still here." he said.

Nabiki put her hand on his, and said, "I realize that, Keona-baby." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, before saying, "How are you feeling today?"

He took a deep breath, and slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. The grimace of pain told her that it still hurt, but he put on a brave face anyway, and said, "Better."

"Good." Sitting down in the chair she'd placed next to his bed, she said, "Aiko's at work, so I figured I'd hang around at least until she got home. I'm going to need to go home sometime soon, just to let my family know that I still exist."

Keona smiled weakly, and stood up shakily. Taking another deep, steadying breath, he walked to his closet and pulled a pair of sweat pants out. He also grabbed a baggy blue t-shirt to cover his bandaged torso. After putting his clothes on, he said, "Let's go to the living room." He turned and walked slowly out of the room, slightly hunched over.

"Okay." Nabiki replied, as she followed him out of the bedroom. They went into the living room and sat down on the couch. Nabiki picked the remote up off the coffee table and handed it to Keona, who turned on the television. He flipped through the channels until he came across an American football game.

Keona set the remote down on his thigh, and said, "I'm kinda hungry. You hungry?"

Nabiki said, "I could eat. What were you thinking of?"

Keona shrugged, and replied, "How about Mexican?"

Nabiki raised an eyebrow, and said. "You have Mexican delivery in northside Juuban?"

"Yeah. Good stuff too."

Nabiki thought about it for a moment. Mexican wasn't something she often ate, as none of her family members besides Ranma really liked it. "I haven't had good Mexican food in a while. Sure, why not." She watched the football game while Keona ordered, trying to figure out what was going on. As far as she could tell, the point of the game was for the guys without the ball to smash the guy with the ball. When Keona hung up the phone, she said, "Keona, why do you watch this?"

"Because I like it. It's a good sport. It takes intelligence and a lot of athletic ability to play. I respect that." He looked over at her, and asked, "Why?"

"I don't know...it just seems kind of pointless, that's all. I mean, what exactly are they trying to do?" Nabiki asked. "It doesn't seem like they're particularly intelligent."

"They are though. Football is like a big chess game. Every player is like a piece on the board. The coaches and coordinator's put the players where they want them, and formulate strategies for them. Everyone has to be where they're supposed to be, following their assignment, or the whole play falls to shit."

"Okay, explain what's going on then, because I'm still not seeing it." Nabiki said in reply, her nose wrinkled cutely in confusion.

Pointing to the TV, Keona said, "The guys in the white jersey's, that's the away team, they're on offense right now. They're trying to move the ball down the field, to get into that big painted rectangle. That's called the end zone. That's one way to score. They have four downs, or chances, to move the ball ten yards forward to get another set of four downs. If they get to their fourth down and still haven't gotten ten yards or scored, and they're within kicking range of the big goalposts behind the end zone, the kicker might try to kick a field goal for three points.

"A touchdown is worth six, with an extra point kicked through the uprights to make it seven, so they'd rather get the touchdown. If they're not within range, then another kicker, called the punter, will come out and kick the ball to a return man on the other team. He'll try and run it back as far as he can. If he gets tackled, his offense will take over right there on first down."

"Okay, that makes sense...but what does each guy do? It seems like they're just running around aimlessly and throwing the ball, and the guys in the red jersey's are chasing them around. And then there's the guys pushing each other around. What's that all about?" Nabiki asked.

Keona waited until the current play was finished and then said, "When they line up, they line up on what's called the line of scrimmage. The guys who are crouched on the line are the linemen for each team. The away team has their offensive squad on the field right now, so that's the offensive linemen. The red guys, the home team, have their defensive linemen on the field. The defensive linemen are trying to get to the quarterback, the guy throwing the ball, to tackle him before he can throw. That's called a sack. The offensive linemen are trying to protect him."

Keonapaused, as the quarterback called the snap and handed the ball off to the running back. "Okay, this is a running play, obviously. The guy running it right now...ooohhh damn, good hit...the guy who _was_ running it was the starting halfback, or tailback. He'll also block for the quarterback sometimes, or catch balls out of the backfield. The guys who are lining up way out on the outside and running out to catch balls are wide receivers, or wideouts. There's also a formation with a third receiver, called the slot receiver, but that's not out there right now. They've got an I formation in. The guy on the end of the line, the one who sometimes runs out to catch the ball, and sometimes blocks, is called the tight end."

Nabiki snorted in a most unfeminine manner, and said, "Wide receivers, slot receivers, tailbacks and tight ends catching balls out of the backfield? Do you have any idea how homoerotic all of this is? A bunch of big, muscley guys in tight pants pushing each other around?"

Keona rolled his eyes and gave up on the explanation of the game. "Never mind."

"Keona-baby, don't be like that!" Nabiki said, sounding vaguely apologetic. "I was just making an observation."

Keona shook his head minutely, and said, "Nah, it's cool. Let's just watch the game. You're a smart girl, you'll figure it out."

Nabiki said, "Okay." and leaned into his side. She smiled as he put his arm around her, and she leaned her head on his strong shoulder. They watched the game for almost thirty minutes before the food arrived. As he'd said, she was beginning to figure out what the game was all about. Everyone had a specific job, that was for certain, but they didn't always do the exact same thing. Through her observations, and the resulting questions that she asked Keona, she was able to learn about most of the positions, and had figured out what the terms "zone coverage" and "man-to-man coverage" meant. Once you learned a bit about the game, it really wasn't all that bad. Still, it wasn't exactly her cup of tea, so she was grateful for the distraction when the food finally arrived.

The doorbell rang and she said, "I'll get it." She stood up, careful not to jostle Keona too much, and fast-walked to the front door. She opened it up and pulled her wallet out. The delivery boy handed her their order, and she paid him. After shutting the door, she went back into the living room and sat down. "Time to eat." She said.

"Cool." Keona took his hotplate from Nabiki and opened it up to reveal a steaming hot Chile Relleno smothered in Ranchero sauce, surrounded by whole pinto beans and spicy Mexican rice with bits of fried corn kernels in it. He looked up at Nabiki, and said, "Thanks babe."

Nabiki found herself taken aback at the casual endearment, and it took her a moment to formulate her reply. "Th...no problem Kiki." She smiled at him, and was thrilled when he returned the smile. It was only for a moment though, as he turned his attention to his food and began eating. Instead of feeling disappointed though, she was elated. He'd called her babe! Sure, it wasn't the sweetest term of endearment one could bestow, but it was something. It was progress! Fighting the urge to begin humming cheerfully, she got out her own food and sat down next to Keona to enjoy her meal and watch the rest of the game.

* * *

Takai shifted uncomfortably under Akihito's intense stare, and said, "I understand Takeda-san."

"I'm glad that you do. This is very important to me. I've got people looking right now, but none of them know him like you do. It would be best to avoid a scene, if you understand my meaning. I'd like to get this done as quickly and cleanly as possible." Akihito squared his shoulders, and looked down his nose at the ugly little man before him. "Kokoru is on the hunt as we speak, but I have a feeling that you know exactly where he is. You could go there by yourself, and save a lot of people a lot of pain. You would earn my favor. Think about it."

Takai bowed deeply, and said, "I will Takeda-san. Thank you for this opportunity to prove myself to you."

Akihito inclined his head slighty, and said, "I'll be thanking _you_ if you will do this thing for me. You'll be a lieutenant after this. You'll have your own soldiers, your own incomes, and you'll answer directly to me. Of course, it would mean an increase in pay and a better apartment. Perhaps a penthouse."

Takai showed no outward reaction, but inwardly he was fighting to maintain control. It was everything he'd ever wanted growing up in northside, but the price was incalculably high. Still, others had sacrificed more for less in the bloody, twisted maze of Tokyo's underworld. Finally, he said, "I will go to Keona." As he turned and walked out of Akihito's office, he squeezed his eyes shut, and muttered, "I'm sorry." almost inaudibly. It was too soft for Akihito to hear.

Takai walked out of the large home that his Captain owned, and marveled at the fact that he could one day have a home much like it. All he had to do was make Keona disappear. He walked to his car and sat down. Turning the key in the ignition, he threw it into gear and began driving down the long driveway that led to the main road. He knew exactly what to do, and exactly where to go. His mind was filled with all the probable outcomes, but he knew that if everything went as planned, he stood to become a whole lot richer.

The drive to Aiko's house seemed to take forever, and when he'd arrived, he found himself in doubt. Was this really the best thing to do? But there was nothing for it. Keona had to go away for the situation to be resolved. Who better than him to make it happen? He made sure his pistol was tucked into the waistband of his pants before getting out of his car. He walked up the short walkway to the front porch, and stopped at the door. Taking a deep breath, he opened it without knocking. Stepping inside and closing the door behind him, he walked through the small entry hall and into the living room. He found Keona and the girl from the club sitting on the couch, watching the tail end of a football game. Keona looked over his shoulder at him, and said, "Hey Takai. What up?"

Takai tried to smile, but found himself unable to do so. He strode around in front of Keona and the girl, and stared hard at the both of them. Finally coming to a decision, he said, "You've got to disappear for a while Kiki."

"What?" Keona said, not understanding.

Takai swallowed hard, and plowed ahead, knowing that if they fucked this up, he was a dead man. "Takeda-san was the one who had you shot. He was trying to prevent a war between the Yakahito-Gumi and the Red Oni. That would have involved the Sun Yee On."

The girl sat up now, suspicion evident in her beautiful face. "How do you know that? And who's Takeda-san?"

Keona sent a harsh glare her way, and said, "Don't speak." Nabiki was about to protest loudly, and venomously, when the skinny man named Takai turned his eyes on her. Something in his gaze told her to keep her peace, and she sat back against the couch, fuming silently. Keona would get an earful for this later.

Takai turned his attention back to Keona and said, "I just came from Takeda-san. He's got Kokoru after you. The guy you met in the parking garage was Yonosuke Hirohata, a high-ranking soldier who answered directly to Takeda-san. They found him dead and rotting in his car a few days after the incident." He took a deep breath, and said, "Takeda-san sent me here to kill you. He knew that I'd know where to find you. So we're going to make you dead."

Nabiki found herself unable to keep silent any longer. "What the hell do you mean you're going to make him dead?" Keona turned to silence her again, but she locked eyes with him, and said frostily, "Don't even think about it." Keona sat there, his mouth hanging open, his thought processes stalled by the fierceness in her words.

Takai cleared his throat loudly, and said, "I mean, he's going to go underground. We need to find a sterile house, in a neighborhood with as few mob connects as possible."

Nabiki's eyes brightened, and she said, "Nerima!"

Takai nodded thoughtfully, and said, "Nerima is good. All that weird martial arts shit keeps most of the criminals out. You know a safehouse there?"

She nodded, a grin on her face, and said, "My house."

Keona's brain finally caught up with the conversation, and he said, "How do you figure your house is safe?"

Nabiki replied, "I have one of the most powerful martial artists in the world under my roof. He's my brother-in-law. And his little friends are easily manipulated. Trust me, it'd take a whole lot more than the mob's got to deal with a slew of angry, super-powered martial artists who are defending their turf and their people."

Keona looked skeptical, but Takai said, "That's gonna have to do. We don't have a lot of time."

"How can you be so sure that this is gonna work?" Keona asked peevishly, apparently not liking the sound of the idea at all.

Takai rolled his eyes, and said, "Would you rather I'd shot you?"

Keona finally relented, and said, "Alright then...how we gonna do this?"

"Convincingly."

* * *

Sixteen year old Haruta Mihoshi sat on her aunt's front porch, watching the scene across the street. They'd heard the gunshots and had gone running to the windows to see what there was to see. All that was, was a blue car tearing off down the street. Twenty-five minutes later, the ambulance had arrived. Mihoshi was visiting from Kyoto, and had never been to a neighborhood like this before. Her family was fairly well-to-do, and had always flown her aunt and her cousins up to visit. Now that she was older, she'd wanted to see where they lived. Forty-five minutes post-gunshots, she was beginning to regret it.

As the paramedic crew, followed by a sobbing young woman who looked to be around her age, loaded a body covered in a bloody white sheet into the ambulance, she heard her cousin Sato remark, "Damn Kiki...they finally got you homeboy." He had a huge bottle of beer in his hand. He called it a forty. He looked pretty sad, and she watched, puzzled, as Sato walked down onto the sidewalk as the ambulance drove away, and poured several long streams of beer onto the concrete.

Following him down to the sidewalk, she cocked her head to the side, and said, "Why did you do that?"

Sato shook his head, and said, "Kiki was a friend of mine. I used to run with him when we was younger, before he moved over to the projects. I'm just havin' one last drink with my boy." Mihoshi was suddenly deeply saddened by what she'd witnessed, the realization that her cousin had been stoically watching an old friend of his being carted off to the morgue striking a low, mournful chord deep within her. As the first tears escaped her eyes and began rolling down her cheeks, Sato said, "Don't you worry, little cuz. What goes around comes around."

Mihoshi's head snapped up, and she saw him take a long drink of beer and then stare in the direction the ambulance had gone. "What do you mean?" She asked.

"Nothin'. Don't worry about it." Sato replied. His voice was steady, but she could see his eyes beginning to tear up. Turning towards the house and walking slowly up the walkway, he said, "You should get inside Mihoshi."

Mihoshi didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

Keona threw the bloody sheet off of himself and gingerly sat up. Nabiki was sitting on the small wall-bench next to one of the bogus paramedics. The guy smirked, and said, "That should put the bad guys off your trail for a good long while. We'll take you over to Nerima and drop you near the high school. You're on your own beyond that, okay kid?"

Keona said, "Cool, thanks. Just, make sure that you drop us in an alley or something. Don't need any more awkward questions than we're already gonna get, and hopping out of an ambulance in plain sight will definitely raise a few."

The guy nodded, and said, "No problem." He moved from the bench, and made his way back up to the cab of the vehicle.

Once they were alone in the back of the ambulance, Keona said, "You should call Aiko. Tell her you need to see her; you have something to tell her that you can't tell her over the phone. Put some tears in your voice." He tilted his head to the side and asked her, "Think you can do that?"

Nabiki raised an eyebrow, but didn't respond verbally. Pulling her cell phone from her pocket, she dialed Aiko's number and waited for her to pick up. When Aiko answered the office phone, Nabiki said, "Aiko? It's Nabiki. Something's happened, and I need to talk to you in person. Go to the Cat Café in Nerima and they'll tell you where to go." Keona watched with interest as her lower lip quivered, and he could hear the plaintive tone in her voice. She sounded like a frightened little girl. She was good. When she hung up the phone, she grinned and said, "Was that good enough for you?"

He nodded. "Works for me."

"Good. I have one more call to make." Flipping open her phone, she dialed the Cat Café. Cologne was a dangerous old woman, but she could trust her with this. All she had to do was tell her it was a family matter. That was something that Cologne understood and respected. So far, everything was going smoothly. Takai was a pretty sharp guy after all.

* * *

Aiko stepped into the main room of the Chinese restaurant and looked around. She caught sight of a stunningly gorgeous young woman with ridiculously proportioned breasts and hair dyed a brilliant shade of violent, and waved her down. The girl appeared before her faster than she could believe, and she was put even more off guard when she heard the high pitched falsetto that the girl spoke in.

"Nihao! Welcome to Cat Café! Shampoo be your waitress tonight!"

Aiko fought the urge to laugh at the girl's name and childish mode of speech. She was a foreigner, and likely didn't have much experience with Japanese. To tease her for it would be inexcusable. Still, the name was truly bizarre. _First Cologne, now Shampoo. What's next, Soap?_ "Actually, I'm supposed to speak with...um, Cologne?"

Shampoo frowned cutely, and then turned to a Chinese boy who was wearing a long white robe and the thickest glasses she'd ever seen. "Mousse, tell great grandma is someone here to see her!"

_Mousse...not soap. Well, at least it was KY Jelly or something._ Aiko giggled at the private joke, and hoped that it had passed the girl's notice. The boy wandered off to the kitchen, and returned a moment later with what Aiko thought might be some kind of highly articulated puppet. It certainly was hideous, whatever it was. It seemed to be attached to some kind of stick. When the ugly puppet spoke she realized, much to her dismay, that it was actually an old woman. A very, very old woman.

"Hello child. You must be Aiko." Before getting a chance to answer her, the old woman said, "Mousse will escort you to your destination." She turned to the Chinese boy and whispered something in his ear.

His eyes widened, and his fists clenched, but he nodded his head in acquiescence and said, "Yes Matriarch." He stepped towards her and bowed. "My name is Mu Tsu, but you can call me Mousse." He straightened, and muttered, "All the other barbarians do." The old woman whacked him on the head, and he grumbled something in Chinese as he rubbed the spot. "My apologies."

Aiko, finding herself increasingly uncomfortable in this place, simply said, "Thank you Mu Tsu. We can go whenever you like."

As the myopic martial artist and the pretty young financier's secretary walked towards the exit, Cologne yelled, "Wear your glasses, Mr. Part-Time!"

Aiko was terribly confused by everything, but she shook it off and said, "My car is this way." Leading him to the aforementioned automobile, she waited until he was settled inside, and then said, "Okay, where to?"

Mousse didn't know the actual address, but he gave her directions as they went. It didn't take long before they were at the Tendo Dojo. "This is it. Home of the infamous Ranma Saotome, tormenter of women everywhere!"

Aiko looked at the obviously unstable young man pityingly, and said, "How are you getting home?"

The young man stepped out of her car as she did, and shrugged. "I'll fly."

"What do you mean you'll fly?" She asked, only to be stunned into silence as he produced a pitcher of water from the sleeve of his robe. He proceeded to dump said pitcher over his head, and instead of a tall, handsome young Chinese man, there was now a pile of wet robes and a big white duck wearing glasses. The duck quacked at her, and then took off in the direction of the Cat Café. Aiko stood in the street next to her car, too shocked to move. She only faintly heard the sound of a young man's voice asking her something.

She was finally brought out of her shocked state when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Slowly turning towards the person, she found herself looking at a scruffy young man with shaggy black hair that was barely held in check by a yellow bandana with black spots on it. He wore what looked to be a martial arts outfit straight out of some feudal martial arts drama, and carried an archaic red bamboo umbrella and a ridiculously large backpack. 

"Excuse me, but can you please direct me to the Tendo Dojo?" He asked shyly, a sharp fang poking out adorably from under one lip.

Aiko pointed towards the house they were standing in front of, and said, "It's right there. I'm actually going there too." Then, looking in the direction that the...duck had flown off in, she said, "Did you see that young man turn into a duck?" She desperately hoped she wasn't going crazy.

"Oh, him? That's just Mousse. There's a guy here who turns into a girl, and another who turns into a panda." He sounded so nonchalant about it, but Aiko couldn't help but shake her head.

"That's impossible. That can't happen." She said.

The boy shrugged his shoulders, and said, "Eh, you get used to that kind of thing around Nerima. Nothing stays normal for long."

Finally hearing something that made sense, Aiko said, "Well, I can relate to that at least. Why don't we go in?"

"Okay." The young man said. "My name's Ryoga...who are you here to see?"

"Tendo Nabiki...and my name's Aiko."

"It's nice to meet you Aiko-san." Ryoga replied, suddenly having reservations about talking to this woman. She seemed nice enough, but anyone who had dealings with Nabiki was someone to be suspected. A moment later, a young man in a red, northern-style Kung Fu shirt and black Kung Fu pants stepped out the front door.

Aiko recognized him as Ranma, the boy who'd carried Keona to his car. Smiling brightly at him, she said, "Hello Ranma. I'm here to see Nabiki."

Ryoga, seeing the face of his most irritating rival, slid into a fighting stance, and shouted, "Ranma! Prepare to die!"

"Not now porky." Came Ranma's firm response. He stared, hard-eyed, at Ryoga. "Kasumi said there ain't no one allowed to fight around here for a while."

"So you're afraid to fight me then, is that it?" Ryoga snarled.

Ranma smirked, cracked his knuckles, and said, "Hell no! Let's take this to Furinkan. Be there in fifteen minutes!"

"You're on Ranma. You'd better be there!" Ryoga growled, before turning and running off.

Ranma just laughed and turned to Aiko. "Hey Aiko, you coming in?"

"Um, yeah. Don't you have to go fight him? Isn't there some kind of honor thing with you martial artists?" She asked.

Ranma shrugged. "It's no big deal really. See, Ryoga has a terrible sense of direction. He went the wrong way to get to Furinkan High." Shaking his head mirthfully, Ranma said, "He'll probably realize that he's been tricked once people stop speaking Japanese. He'll be back in a few days, a week or two at the most. We'll fight then."

Aiko said, "Okay then." Her voice carried more than a hint of incredulity. "Why don't we go inside and see what Nabiki has to say?" Ranma ushered Aiko into the house, and into the living room. Nabiki sat in front of the television with Akane, watching some magical girl anime and eating chips. Kasumi could be heard in the kitchen, humming cheerfully and chopping up ingredients for dinner. Soun and Genma sat near the back doors, cheating at Shogi.

Nabiki glanced up at Ranma and Aiko as they entered the room, and she smiled a smile filled with relief. Standing up, she walked over to Aiko and embraced her warmly. Everything in the house ground to a standstill, as everyone watched the Ice Queen of Furinkan High willingly show affection to someone. The only sound that could be heard was Kasumi humming obliviously to herself in the kitchen. "Thank the Kami you're here." She introduced Aiko to each of her family members, and then said, "Why don't you come up to my room."

Aiko nodded, and followed Nabiki to her bedroom. Upon entering, she saw a plush, western style bed, and next to it on the floor, a futon. Lying on the futon, snoring softly, was Keona. "What's going on here?" She whispered.

Nabiki pulled her back into the hall, and said, "His friend Takai stopped by your house today. He told us that some Takeda guy sent a hitman after Keona. That's what happened at the mall. They found the hitman dead in his car a few days later."

Aiko's eyes went wide, and she looked at Nabiki's closed bedroom door, as if looking at Keona. Turning back to Nabiki, she said, "How did he know this?"

"He said that Takeda wanted him to find Keona and kill him. I guess there are other's looking for him too. Takai called some friends of his who have an ambulance and fired off a few shots in the house. The ambulance dropped us off in an alley near the house, and we walked the rest of the way. Takai said that Kiki needs to lie low for a while, that people need to think that he's dead."

Aiko chuckled softly, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she said, "I didn't think he had it in him."

"What?" Nabiki queried.

"Takai...I never knew he was so loyal. I can't believe he'd betray Takeda-san like that for Kiki." She chuckled, and then wiped a single tear from the corner of her eye. "Damn noble of him." she said.

Nabiki leaned against the wall, and said, "Who's this Takeda guy anyway?"

"Since you're already pretty well wrapped up in it, I might as well tell you. Kiki's going to be angry when he finds out, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there." Leaning against the wall opposite Nabiki, Aiko said, "Takeda Akihito is one of the most powerful Captains of the Yakahito-Gumi Yakuza family. Takai is a soldier under one of Takeda's Lieutenants, and Takeda has been grooming Keona to eventually take oaths of membership since he was fourteen. Yasuo was involved too. That's what the tattoos on his arms are. They're status symbols, not decoration. He was very close to taking the oaths when he and Yasuo were shot. After that, he sort of...turned inward, I guess you could say."

Nabiki didn't blink for almost thirty seconds, the enormity of Keona's affiliation with the Yakuza beginning to settle in. She'd had no idea it went that far, that he was that deeply involved. When she regained her train of thought, she said, "I had no idea it was that...that bad. I didn't know he was that close to...wow." It was all she could think to say.

"We have to keep him here now, that's for sure. He can't leave until we can get him away from the city. If he's found out, he'll die, you'll die, and Takai will die. Hell I might die too." Aiko said all of this with absolute certainty. "These people do not show mercy."

Nabiki took a deep breath, and said, "I know. Trust me, he'll be well protected here."

"I hope so." Aiko stood again, and made her way back down to the living room. She walked over to the two older men playing Shogi, and said, "You don't mind Keona staying here Tendo-san?"

A voice from behind her spoke up, softly but firmly saying, "A martial artist's first duty is to protect those who can't protect themselves." She turned around to see Ranma standing a few feet behind her. "I give you my word that he'll be safe here."

Ranma was younger than Keona, that was obvious, but he had an old man's eyes. He really had seen some things, she didn't doubt that. Somehow, his promise made her feel better. "Thank you."

* * *

Yassine sat on her sofa, looking over the piece of paper that Kota over at the lab had brought by her house. She had been helping Reiko clean up after dinner when the doorbell rang. Initially, she'd set it aside to watch some television and spend time with her new girlfriend, but she could contain her desire to further the investigation for only so long. After two made-for-TV movies and a pint and a half of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream, she'd finally picked up the manilla envelope and opened it.

She wasn't supposed to bring these documents home, but she needed to get some work done, and she and Akina had been pulling overtime for weeks, so the office was out. Reiko sat next to her on the couch, watching some ridiculous variety show. The pretty redhead was making a rather obvious, although unsuccessful efforts not to look at the paper in Yassine's hands, being somewhat resentful of the tree by-product that was taking attention away from her. Finally, her curiosity got the best of her, and she asked, "What is that?"

Yassine glanced up, and pushed her glasses up on her nose. "It's just some paperwork for that case I've been working on."

"Ah...you've been staring at it for _fifteen_ minutes. It's only one piece of paper. What's on it, the killer's name?"

Absently, Yassine nodded her head, and said, "Hopefully."

Reiko leaned in close and nibbled her earlobe gently. Breathily, she whispered, "It's getting late...you should come to bed."

Yassine felt a rush in her loins, but with a herculean effort, she managed to fight off her powerful libido. "Just...give me a few more minutes, okay? I'll be in soon." She turned her attention back to the paper, trying to ignore Reiko standing up in a huff and walking towards the hallway that led to the master bedroom. After a few more minutes of studying everything on the page, she picked up her phone and dialed Akina's number.

"Hello?" It was Akina's husband who answered, a high school science teacher...an odd match if ever there was one.

"Hey there Shiro, it's Yassine. Is Akina still up?"

"Uh, yeah...hold on." She heard his palm muffling the mouthpiece, and then a few moments later, Akina's voice came on the line.

"Yassine? What's up?"

"Kota just dropped by with that lab report we asked for. The first blood sample came from - you'll love this, trust me - the vic from that car they found outside Tokyo; the Yakuza hitman. The other sample is what took them so long to trace, but they finally got it. It goes back to an orphanage up in Maebashi, about 65 miles north of Tokyo City proper. The original sample on file at the orphanage is almost eleven years old now, apparently a routine blood sample taken when a child becomes a possible candidate for adoption."

Akina excitedly asked, "Well, what's the name? Was he adopted?"

Yassine supressed a humorless laugh, and said, "Well, that's the kicker, ain't it. There's only a given name. No surname. It's Keona. That's it. One word. I don't know if he was adopted though, we'll have to talk to the orphanage for that."

"Keona?"

"Yeah, Keona. Why, does it mean something to you?" Yassine asked, hoping for a miracle.

"Actually, yeah, it does. When I was in the special forces, we had an exchange program with the US Navy SEAL's. I was one of three soldiers from my unit sent for training in the US. One of the SEAL's in the SEAL team that I worked with was a Hawaiian named Keona."

Yassine sighed, and said, "Thanks for that. That really helps. It's a Hawaiian name. That's something we can give the DA."

Akina laughed lightly, and said, "Oh, lighten up you silly American. You're all so uptight."

"The Greek balances it out. Anyway, that's what we've got. It's not much, but it's something." She said.

"So, does this mean we get to take the bullet train?" Akina asked. She loved taking the bullet.

"I guess it does. I'll call them in the morning and arrange a meeting."

"Yassine, it's been a few minutes!" came Reiko's yell from the bedroom.

Feeling that perhaps she'd best wrap it up, Yassine said, "Listen, I've got to go."

"I heard that. She's got you whipped already Yassine. I'm impressed, I can't wait to meet her." Yassine could hear the smile in Akina's voice.

"I'm sure you'll love her. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, bye."

"Bye." Yassine hung up the phone and slipped the piece of paper back into the envelope. Setting it under her coat, which was sitting on the end of the couch, she stood up and walked into the bedroom. She found Reiko dressed in a pair of pink pajamas, propped up with pillows behind her, reading a book.

Reiko glanced up, and said, "More work?"

Yassine crossed the room to the bed and began undressing. "Oh, the phone call? Yeah. I've got to run up north tomorrow. I'll probably be gone until late tomorrow night. I'll leave you the key if you want."

Reiko smiled at her, and said, "That would be nice. I work tomorrow, but I get off at nine thirty. I'll make you something to eat when you get home."

"Thanks." Yassine slipped under the covers and laid her head on her pillow. "It's really nice having you around, you know that?"

"It's nice to be here." Reiko replied, before kissing her gently on the lips.

Yassine deepened the kiss, before breaking it off and saying, "So what are you reading?"

Reiko looked at the book, and then back at Yassine. Tossing the book aside, the pretty redhead answered, "Nothing interesting."

As Reiko descended on her for another kiss, Yassine fervently hoped that she'd be able to wake up in time to call the orphanage. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Sato sat in his bedroom, looking at the three firearm's on the small table in front of him. A Glock 17, much like the one Keona had, was the one he carried day to day. They'd gotten their guns from the same guy. A matte black Desert Eagle .50, and his pride and joy, an AK-47, rounded out his small collection. Picking up his cell phone, he dialed and old friend of his, Kai Wing, a Chinese kid who'd joined the 3 Serpents nearly four years ago when he'd arrived from Hong Kong. When Kai answered, Sato said, "Bad news man."

"What kind?" Kai's voice was wary, a result of many such phone calls. He was about due for another.

"It's Kiki man. Somebody clipped him man."

"What the fuck do you mean somebody clipped Kiki?" Kai shot back, his tone of voice rising as he finished the sentence.

"I heard shots goin' off at his house, and then these folks rolled up in the ambulance and took a body out. Some chick came out with it, all sobbin' and shit."

Kai's voice was beginning to return to normal, and he said, "Did you see him?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, did you see Kiki's face? Do you know it's him?" Kai asked.

"Well, no I ain't see his face. But the body was about the right size for him, and I don't know who the fuck else would be over there." Sato replied angrily.

"Chill the fuck out, Sato. Think this shit through man...did you see cops?"

Sato thought about it for a moment, and then said, "Shit, no I didn't. None."

"Alright, check this out. We get ahold of Takai or Aiko, see what the fuck is going on. But I promise you this. You didn't see no cops, there wasn't no murder."

Sato allowed the words to sink in, and then said, "How the fuck you think of this shit?"

"Just some shit happened...I'll tell you later. Just, call Takai and Aiko."

"Alright, I ain't seen Aiko all day, but I know Takai's cell number. I'll give him a call when we's done talkin'. Either way, some weird shit is goin' down, and we gotta figure it out."

"I hear you man. Keep me posted. Don't tell no one else about this shit until you talk to me again."

"Cool. I'm out." Sato flipped his phone closed, and began brooding on the new thoughts that were running through his head. It did seem very strange that the cops hadn't shown up after the shooting. Something like that should have pulled at least one squad car and a plain clothes detective at the least. But instead, they'd sent no one. He took one last look at his weapons, before wrapping the Desert Eagle and the AK-47 up in a large towel and stuffing them in his closet on the top shelf. It wasn't time for that yet. He still needed some answers.

* * *

I lie on the futon in Nabiki's room, listening to her breathing softly on the big bed above me. I try to take comfort in her presence, but there's only one thing I can think of. Takeda Akihito. On some level, I know I should have expected this. He'd told me not to fuck with the Red Oni, and I had given him my word. What's done is done, that's what I'd said. I guess I wasn't fooling anybody. It ain't done...not even close. Takeda makes it tougher, but not impossible. I still have people, and now I know I can count on Takai. He may not look like much, but when push comes to shove, he ain't afraid to take a swing...or pull the trigger. I'm banking on that.

For me, I know that they're all right. I need to lay low for a while. I'll do that. I'll lay low, and I'll heal up. Then I'm coming back. I'm the thing that men like Takeda Akihito and the gang leaders fear most...focused rage with nothing to lose. I know I'm not going anywhere now. Not with the Yakahito after me. It's come down to a simple choice, and it's the easiest one I've ever had to make. Them or me. I've made it before, but never with consequences of such magnitude looming over me. Now, I'll make it again. I've already made it. Nabiki told me that she got rid of my gun, but that's not a problem. I'm not even angry at her for it. She has no idea how easy it is for a guy like me to get a gun. One phone call will open up an armory if you've got enough cash, and I've got plenty of that. I just have to figure out a way to get to it first.

I stare at the ceiling and I can see Takeda's face before me. It's sitting next to Yamada Ichiro's, bloody halo's surrounding each. I'm going to make this vision a reality, even if it means the end of me. Ichiro first; he's small fry now. I'll sniff his bitch ass out and finish him off; his homeboy's too. Then I'll take it to Takeda. One way or another, I'll find a way to take him down with me. Of that I have no doubt. As I stare at the ceiling, I wish for a bottle of whiskey to help me fall asleep. I know that I'm going to dream tonight. It's starting to happen now that I don't have my sleeping medicine. But it's not to be, not tonight.

So I'll lie awake for as long as I can, fighting sleep until I can't keep my eyes open anymore. Then I'll dream, and I'll be awake again before too long. I just hope I don't wake up Nabiki. More questions is the last fucking thing I need.


	8. Sato's Overture

Okay, another chapter, hopefully more reviews! Thanks for reading this far, and to those who have already reviewed.

* * *

It really is beautiful here. The Tendo Dojo isn't like any place I've ever stayed before. It's been another week, and I'm feeling better and better every day. They got this guy named Tofu coming over and doing all this weird martial arts doctoring shit on me. It's kinda fuckin' scary, but it works like nothing the hospital doctors have ever done. Impossible as it sounds, I'm almost as good as new after two near-fatal shootings in as many months. Shit, I'm in better shape now than I was the day before I got shot. I'm sitting on the back porch, watching Ranma and his old man go at it. Everyone else calls it sparring, but this is knock down, drag out brawling. Even after seeing this shit for almost eight days, I still have to suspend my disbelief whenever I watch them jumping high enough to touch down on three story buildings.

Now, I've never felt insecure about my ability to defend myself with my fists. In fact, if I could settle every score with a good fight instead of a glock, I'd do it. I can beat just about anybody's ass. Not to brag, but I'm as hard as they come. But this shit is unreal. Suddenly, I feel very naked without my gun. And after hearing some of the stories, which don't seem quite so unbelievable anymore, I don't know if even that would help me. And it ain't like I'm about to test that.

"Hey there. Yen for your thoughts?" Nabiki sits down next to me and gives a gentle tug on the sleeve of my long-sleeved shirt. Her hand on the fabric is a reminder of what I'm hiding from these people; what she's hiding from her family. The only others who've seen what's under them are Genma and Kasumi. The old man don't seem to give a fuck...not like he's a saint either. It takes a crook to spot one...and it takes a thug to spot one. He's both. Just older and mellower. Kasumi knows what they mean, that was easy to tell when she saw them the first time, when she came into Nabiki's room the first morning to wake us up for breakfast. She didn't say anything though, and hasn't treated me any differently since.

I like Kasumi a lot. In a way, she kind of reminds me of Aiko. The big sister who had to grow up too fast to become the mother that everyone needed. Sometimes when I watch them talking during Aiko's visits, I wonder if maybe Aiko would have been as at peace and as worry free as Kasumi if she hadn't grown up in Northside. Or if she hadn't had me and Yasuo around to drag her down. "Keona?" It don't matter though. It's just like I said to Takeda; what's done is done. It is what it is. "Kiki!"

"What?" I reply calmly to Nabiki's shout.

"Didn't you hear me talking to you? I was sitting right next to you." She ain't sitting down anymore, but is instead standing over me with her hands on her hips, frowning.

"I was just thinking, shit. Don't jump on my fucking back for it." I snap back.

Her eyes narrow, and she looks like she's about to try and argue, but then her features soften, and she sits down. "Sorry. I was just trying to get your attention."

"Yeah, well you did a good job." I mutter grumpily.

She rolls her eyes, and says, "Anyway, as I was saying: Yen for your thoughts?"

I can't help but chuckle, and I say, "Whose yen? Mine or yours?"

Nabiki raises an eyebrow and says, "Don't push it Kiki." in a very matter-of-fact tone.

"Nothing important. I was just thinking about how nice it'll be to get out of this house."

Nabiki suddenly looks wounded, and she says, "You really dislike it here that much?"

I shake my head, and say, "It ain't that. I just don't like being stuck in one place. I need to be able to move, to take care of shit. I don't feel right just sitting around all the time doing nothing."

She sighs, and says, "I guess I can understand that. Still, you've gotten plenty of rest, you said yourself that you're eating better than you have since you left Aiko's...and I'm here too." She smiles seductively and leans towards me. "That's gotta be worth a few points." Her voice is soft and husky, and I don't even try to resist as she presses her lips to mine.

The kiss is deep and slow; neat, and not too slobbery. I slip my tongue into her mouth, and she responds immediately. She's a damn good kisser. After those first few analytical thoughts, everything else disappears, and I close my eyes and enjoy the sensations. I don't know how long it lasts, but the moment is broken by a shout from behind us. "What the hell are you doing to my sister _you pervert_?" We both snap our heads around to see Akane glaring at...me. And just me. She starts forward, her fists coming up in a ready position. Now, I've seen her in action, trying to nail Ranma while he was in the middle of one of the greatest displays of arrogance I've ever seen. She can hit, that's for damn sure, but it takes a while for her to get to you. I know I'm faster than she is, and I know she can't take pain. She's as soft as an over-ripe plum. And unlike Ranma, I'll hit a girl if she gets serious.

I stand up, my fists curling, when Nabiki steps in front of me with a glare, and says, "You hit my sister, and you'll spend an eternity regretting it. Got it?" Now, I'm no bitch, and I sure as hell ain't pussy-whipped. Hard to be when you haven't even slept with the girl yet. But I'll say this for Nabiki. When she means it, she means it. I ain't about to start shit with that. I've heard some stories about her too. Besides, I'm a little out of my element here. I nod my head, and keep my mouth shut. "Good." Turning to Akane, she says, "Akane, this is none of your business, so I'll thank you to keep your nose out of it."

It's hard not to laugh as Akane's face goes as red as a tomato, and she says, "You mean...you _wanted_...you were?"

I can't see Nabiki's face, but I can hear the smug smile in her voice when she says, "Enjoying an act of physical intimacy with someone you like doesn't make you a pervert Akane." She glances back at me and winks, and then says to Akane, "You know, you're the only person I know who talks _so_ much about perverts and how perverted everyone is. Maybe you're the one having unclean thoughts?" She phrases the last one as a question, and it leaves Akane's face redder than it was before, and her mouth gaping open. She slowly turns and walks back into the house, muttering something about perverts under her breath. When she's gone, Nabiki and I both start laughing uproariously.

A moment later, Kasumi steps outside. Looking at me, she smiles, and says, "Aiko is on the phone for you Keona. She says a friend of yours called her."

I'm inside and at the phone faster than she can blink. "Aiko? What's up, who called?"

"Takai called. He said he got a call from Sato." I frown, hoping that it's not what I think. Sato is a little bit of a loose cannon. It's not that he's stupid, he's just very impulsive, and is quick to believe the worst of any situation. I don't doubt he saw the ambulance, but it didn't occur to me that he might go off half-cocked and start shooting people.

"He didn't do something crazy did he?" I ask, knowing that it's probably too much to hope for.

Aiko's voice is pensive when she answers. "No, not exactly...he asked where you were."

I remove the phone from my mouth and say, "Shit!" Bringing the phone back to my mouth, I ask, "Okay, what exactly did he say?"

"Well, Takai said that Sato had some suspicions. He mentioned a blue car driving away, but I don't think he's connected it with Takai."

I take a deep breath, feeling the stress beginning to build up right between my shoulder blades. I pinch the bridge of my nose, and say, "Fuck it. Next time you come, bring him by. I could use his help anyway."

Her voice sounds suspicious now, as she asks, "Help with what, Kiki?"

"I just need to get some shit done is all; get some shit from my place, you know? Is that cool with you?" I ask rudely. I instantly regret the tone that I just took with her, but it's too late to take it back now.

"Of course Kiki." Her tone is neutral, and I can tell she's hurt. She'll be angry soon. Hopefully I'll be off the phone by then. "I'll be by with him tomorrow."

My voice is softer, gentler when I reply. "Alright sis. I'll see you then."

"I love you Kiki."

"I love you too." I hang up, and walk back outside. Nabiki is still sitting there, but Ranma and Genma are no longer fighting. Neither of them are anywhere to be seen. I sit down next to her, and she scoots closer and smiles at me.

"So, what was that about?" She asks.

"It ain't important. I'll tell you later." I say. Standing up, I hold my hand out to help Nabiki do likewise. "C'mon, let's go take a nap."

She raises an eyebrow at me, but takes my hand and stands up anyway. "A nap? It's only one in the afternoon."

"So? I'm a wounded man, I need my rest. C'mon nurse, come take care of me." I tug on her hand and pull her inside the house. She puts up a token resistance, smiling all the while, but when we get to the bottom of the stairs, she grins and starts up them, her hand still in mine.

"Where are you two going?" Akane again.

Nabiki looks at her, and says, "5,000 yen."

I'm about to make a joke to back up hers, when I see Akane take a wad of cash out of her pocket, count out a few bills, and toss them to her sister after refolding them. "Here. Now, where are you going with my sister, Keona?"

Nabiki bites her lip naughtily and looks at me through sultry, lidded eyes, and then smirks down at her sister. "I'm pretty sure we're about to go have sex, so you should probably go find Ranma and go do...whatever it is you two do nowadays." She waves patronizingly to her sister and says in a cute voice, "Bye bye!"

I chuckle as Akane turns around, open-mouthed in shock, and stumbles drunkenly away. I'm about to move on to full-blown laughter, when Nabiki grabs my hand and drags me into her room. After making sure that the door is securely shut and locked, and the windows shuttered, she sits down on the bed and leans back, her tits pushed out suggestively. "Now...where were we?"

* * *

"I checked it out...the hospital recorded a John Doe arriving a little after three thirty in the afternoon with two fatal gunshot wounds to the head. The ambulance came from Aiko's place. Takai wasn't bullshitting."

Akihito sighed, finally feeling the stress of the last few weeks bleeding away. He wasn't any less heavy-hearted though. "Okay, call off the hunt." Best to get everything back to normal as quickly as possible. As an afterthought, he added, "And send Aiko some flowers and a card." He hung up the phone and leaned back in his office chair. Blowing out a long breath between pursed lips, he rubbed his hands over his face, exhaustion threatening to overwhelm him. He'd been sleeping less and less as of late, the problem with Keona causing him an undue amount of stress. Luckily, with him gone there was nothing to complicate the talks between the Triads and the Yakahito-Gumi.

"Daddy? Daddy, are you in there still?" It was his daughter, Ami, calling and knocking on the door to his study.

"Yes sweetheart. Come on in." He stood and walked from behind his desk as his daughter entered the room. "What do you need?"

"I'm going shopping with the girls soon, and I was wondering if we could borrow the Land Rover for the storage space."

Akihito raised an eyebrow, and said, "Exactly how many of you are going?"

"Oh, you know...me, Akiko, Kaede, Nobu, and Jenna." She bit her lip cutely, and her eyes glistened.

Akihito found himself unable to say no, and relented after only a moment. "Oh, alright. But no letting anyone else drive it, and you'd better not be picking up any boys. And make sure your gaijin friend doesn't spill anything on the upholstery...like she has the last two times."

Ami beamed at him, and exuberantly said, "Of course Daddy! I'll be _soooo_ careful with it. I promise!" She stood up on her tiptoes and gave her father a kiss on the cheek, and then said, "Bye!"

"Bye sweetheart. Have a good day, and drive carefully." Akihito said as she left. When the door to the study closed, he sat down behind his desk again and stared in the direction his daughter had gone. He worried for her. He always worried for her. He had many enemies, and few of them would have any compunctions against abducting and murdering a pretty seventeen year old girl if they thought it would weaken him. His own life had been a study in violence, and the money that allowed his daughter to live the life that she did was dripping with the blood of those who had stood in his way.

Born in a small farming community in rural Honshu, he'd been the fourth son of a drunken, abusive father and a weepy, eternally sad mother. His father would come home drunk each night, and take out whatever injustices the day had heaped upon him on his poor wife. If one of their sons tried to defend her, he got it worse than she did. In his more lucid moments, he would tell his sons that he loved them, and that he did it to teach them to be strong. "Survival of the fittest. Only the strong survive." he'd say. He'd never explained why he hit their mother. It had been that way for the first fifteen years of Akihito's life, until one day, when everything had changed.

His father had been in a drunken rage, as he so often was, and was beating his mother. Aside from himself and twenty years old Kazuo, his oldest brother, no one else was home. Kazuo had nudged Akihito in the ribs and pointed to a knife on the counter. "Get it." he'd said softly, his face a study in hatred as he'd returned his burning gaze to their father. Akihito hadn't questioned the order, but instead had done as he'd been told. As his hands had closed over the handle of their mother's chefs knife, he'd heard a sudden shout behind him. He'd whirled around and saw his brother holding his father by the arms. His father was struggling mightily, wordlessly roaring and trying to free himself from his eldest son's grasp. The wet crunch of Kazuo's nose breaking echoed throughout the kitchen as their father's head whipped back into his face, but Kazuo was a strong man like their father, and a lifetime of defending himself and his family from drunken ragmpages had hardened him. He'd held strong long enough to shout, "Fucking stick him Aki!"

Again, there was no questioning. His father hadn't been anyone important to him for a very long time. He wasn't even human. Five steps had carried him to his struggling father, and he had felt only satisfaction at the ironic reversal in the old cycle of fear and violence in the Takeda household. He'd savored the fear and pain in his father's eyes as he'd plunged the knife, over and over again, into his chest and stomach. He didn't know how many times he'd stabbed him, but when Kazuo had finally let go of him he'd been unable to stand. He'd lied there on the wooden floor, bleeding out, and Kazuo and Akihito had just stood there and watched, as their mother sobbed in the corner of the kitchen.

Akihito and Kazuo had left home the next day at their mother's behest, never to see their family again. They'd hitchhiked their way to Tokyo, and had bummed around on the streets for several weeks before finally ending up in North Juuban. There, they had discovered that life was no more perilous than it had been in their old living room back home. Death was an every day occurrence, and you could always be next. But now they had some control. They'd started off when Kazuo had broken into a man's house for valuables, and had somehow found a stash of guns. He'd taken a pair of pistols and a box of ammo for each. The plan was simple. Rob people until they had enough money to break into the burgeoning cocaine trade on the small-time side.

It had gone beautifully. After three weeks, they'd had enough to buy their first kilo. The drug trade was touch and go at first, mostly because neither of them really had any clue what they were doing. But they were smart, and they figured things out quickly enough. Within two years, they shared a small house in the NJ, peddling everything from cocaine and heroine, to weed, acid and angeldust. After three years, they were the biggest dealers in Juuban, and some of the biggest in the city of Tokyo.

It was only inevitable that the Yakuza would come to call eventually. And call they did, with five soldiers on their doorstep. Kazuo had wanted to kill them after they'd pitched their offer of protection for payments, but Akihito had reasoned with him. There was no way they could fight the Yakuza. They'd just have to wait for an opportunity to present itself. And one had, several months later. A pair of soldiers came by for the monthly payment, and had the audacity to try and squeeze them for more. But instead of guns in the face, they tried intimidation instead. Had they been dealing with simple shopkeepers, or restauranteurs, that may have worked. But both Kazuo and Akihito were by now veteran drug dealers, and neither was going to be taken by surprise. The demand for an extra 200,000 yen was made, along with a threat of severe bodily harm should the money fail to appear in ten seconds. What appeared in Kazuo and Akihito's hands instead was guns.

The pair of Yakuza thugs had been sent back to their boss in the trunk of a car with a receipt detailing the cost of the ammunition used to kill his lackey's, and a demand for compensation. It was an even more ridiculous demand than the one the two thugs had made, but it had been significantly more amusing. It had resulted in a meeting with their boss, and the eventual initiation of both Takeda brothers into the Yakahito-Gumi. That had been almost two decades ago, and he'd lost Kazuo to the endless violence some nine years ago now. Ami still thought that her beloved Uncle Kazuo had died in a car accident, but she knew what her father did. She was too intelligent to fool for long. She'd brought it up once, while on the way to dinner one night when her mother was still alive. She hated it, much like her mother had, and he knew that she was as frightened for him as he was for her. But he couldn't explain it to her, why he couldn't stop. He couldn't explain anything to her. It was a topic that they hadn't talked about since that first time, and he had made it clear that it would never be talked about again.

Still, he was wealthy, powerful, and was still climbing the ladder. He'd be Oyabun someday, and all his efforts and sacrifices would finally bear fruit. It was a hard life, but it was not without it's rewards. Someday, he'd die and leave all of his considerable assets to his daughter. She'd never have to work a day in her life, and if she was smart with her money and invested it, neither would her children. Takeda Akihito had suffered much loss in his life, but would ensure that his daughter never suffered such in hers. She would graduate high school next year, go on to a good college and a good career, find a good husband a raise a family in the affluence that her father had built for her. She would never be have to be like him, and for that he was profoundly grateful.

* * *

Sunset in North Juuban held many of the same mystical qualities that it did in other places, but for very different reasons. In the NJ, that's when the dark, creeping fear that had stayed hidden in the shadows during the day came crawling out into the open to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It was a time to find a safe, well-lit home to lock yourself in with your family and eat dinner and watch TV. But for some people, it was the start of the day, when business was finally beginning to pick up.

Haruta Sato stood on The Corner, his pager in one pocket, his cell-phone in the other. The comforting weight of his pistol rested in the back waistband of his baggy blue jeans, and he took a moment to survey the area that he'd clocked at for nearly six years. He'd been shot once on this corner, stabbed three times, and had been in countless fights and brawls here. But it was still his number one spot, and no one had pushed him off of it yet. The Oni's had tried time after time, and failed, time after time. As long as the 3 Serpents held The Corner, and he drew breath, he'd work The Corner. Unless of course, the impossible happened and he somehow got out of the 'hood. He almost had to laugh at the idea. It was pretty ridiculous.

"Hey Sato. How's business?" Kai swaggered up to Sato, grinning.

Sato shrugged his shoulders, and tugged on the collar of his dark purple t-shirt. His unmarked baseball cap of the same color, cocked slightly to the right, marked him as a member of the 3 Serpents Gang. "Business is business, you know what I'm sayin'?"

"Yeah, I feel you. You hear anything about our man?"

"Yeah...got a call from Aiko. She said tomorrow."

Kai raised an eyebrow, and said, "What the fuck does that mean?"

Sato turned a frown on his friend, and said, "I don't fuckin' know. Don't start gettin' all uppity with me." Turning to gaze out at the street again, he said, "She said she'd light out early from work and pick us up at my place tomorrow. That's all she said."

"That ain't much man." Kai replied with a frown of his own.

"Well what the fuck you want me to do about it?" Sato snapped hotly.

"Shit homeboy, don't get your fucking panties in a twist. I was just making an observation." Kai shook his head, and muttered, "Fuckin' hothead."

"Yeah, whatever man. Anyway, just drop by my place around noon, and we'll smoke a couple blunts while we wait." Sato said, licking his lips at the thought of good weed. Unlike some of his good friends, Kiki and Kai included, Sato never smoked dank or drank unless he wasn't planning on being out and about in the NJ. It dulled the senses too much, made your reactions slower. If you got all fucked up and forgot to be careful, someone might just pull your card. "Sound cool man?"

Kai nodded his head and rubbed his hands together. "Hell yeah. Sounds real cool. I'll be there man...wait a second." Kai eyeballed Sato suspiciously, and queried, "You even gonna be awake yet?"

Sato sneered, and said, "Shiiit, I'll be up, kid. You just make sure to bring yourself when I said, and we can get our smoke on before Aiko drops by."

Kai grinned, and said, "Beauty, man." A moment later, his cell phone went off. Pulling it out of his pocket, he answered it. "Hello?" A sly smile broke out on his face and he pulled the phone away from his mouth and whispered to Sato, "University girl, man...got a party to go to. Peace." He turned and walked away, making small-talk with the girl on the phone.

Sato just looked back out at the street, watching the cars and pedestrians pass by; although most of the foot traffic was reserved for the opposite side of the street. As he watched the flow of traffic, he noticed a familiar blue car approaching. In the distance, it bore a great resemblance to the car that he'd seen leaving Aiko's house. As it approached, he realized that it was the same car. And as it grew closer still, he felt like smacking himself for not recognizing it in the first place. The car pulled up to the curb in front of him, and he walked to the passenger door. Opening it up, he crouched down and locked eyes with the driver. "Takai, man, you and me need to have a little talk."

Takai sucked air in through his teeth, and then muttered, "Yeah, yeah we do. Get in."

Sato looked around the corner one more time, catching the eye of a few other 3 Serpents boys, making sure that they saw him getting in Takai's car. If no one ever saw him again, at least his homeboy's would have a good place to start looking.

* * *

"So, what unimportant thing were you going to tell me about?" Nabiki asked as she propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at Keona. Keona was lying on his back, one arm underneath her torso, the other resting on his stomach. Nabiki quirked her mouth in an odd mixture of a smile and a frown, and said, "Well?"

Keona looked up at her and shrugged as best he could while flat on his back, half pinned by a naked girl. "It was just about an old friend."

"Kiki, you better just tell me. The fact that you're trying to avoid telling me makes me think that it's not as unimportant as you say it is." Nabiki replied, her expression turning serious. "Did...", her expression softened, as she said, "Did you lose someone?"

Keona eyed her for a moment, and then smirked, and said, "No. No, nothing like that." He licked his lips slowly, and said, "You're beautiful, you know that?"

"As a matter of fact I do...frequent reminders never hurt anyone though. They also never distract me from what I want to know." Smiling serenely down at him, an expression that he found more than a little disconcerting, she said, "Now, tell me what that call was about."

Sighing, he said, "Alright, fine. One of my homeboy's called Takai, asking where I was. He saw the ambulance, but thinks something's up."

"Oh my!" Nabiki slapped her hand over her mouth as she uttered her older sister's favorite catch phrase. "Kami, I'm turning into Kasumi!" Shaking her head violently to dislodge the thought, she said, "Okay, what exactly is happening?"

"My friend called Takai, Takai called Aiko, Aiko called me, and now Aiko is bringing my boy Sato down here tomorrow." Keona answered flatly.

Nabiki could feel a migraine beginning to build between her temples. Her first time with him was not supposed to be like this! Forcing her frustration to the back of her mind, Nabiki said, "Why did you think this was unimportant?"

"It ain't like he's gonna snitch me out to Takeda." Keona said with a glare.

"How the hell do you know he _won't?_" Nabiki asked, her frustration reasserting itself powerfully.

Keona rolled over on his right side, facing away from her in the bed. "Because I know him. He ain't like that."

"Any other good news you want to share with me, Mr. Sunshine?" Nabiki asked acerbically, bringing herself to a sitting position and folding her arms underneath her breasts, so as to better look down upon him.

Still facing away from her, Keona said, "Yeah, actually, I do. He's a huge crack dealer, and a well-known gang member."

"Oh my!"

"Shit, don't pull that again...it ain't like you weren't expecting that." Keona muttered.

"That wasn't me Kiki." Nabiki said.

Keona nearly came off the bed, he rolled over so quickly. It was difficult not to laugh at the play of expressions that ran across Keona's face when he realized that they'd been caught in bed together by Kasumi. A moment later, his rational(?) thought processes kicked in, and he said, "This ain't what it looks like, I swear to God!"

Kasumi stared at both of them, her mouth hanging open in shock, for what seemed like an eternity. Then her jaw snapped shut with an audible click, and her normal sunny smile returned to her face. "Dinnertime!" she said brightly, before shutting the bedroom door.

Nabiki listened to Kasumi's footsteps fading down the hallway, and then burst into laughter. She looked over at Keona, who was nearly hyperventilating trying to find his clothes, and started laughing even harder. "Oh...Oh Kiki, wait!" she said when she finally started getting control of herself. Keona was attempting to put on his shoes while hopping towards the window. Of course, he'd yet to put on his pants. "Hold on a sec...whew!" She took a deep breath, and nearly started laughing again, but managed to keep her poise. "Okay, now don't go freaking out."

"Man, fuck that! Your old man is gonna pull a shotgun-wedding...katana-wedding...what-the-fuck-ever! The point is, I'm trapped!" He finished putting on his shoes, and dashed to the window, beginning to open it up, when he heard Nabiki tsking softly behind him.

Smiling laconically, Nabiki gestured helpfully at his pants on the floor, and said, "Pants first, then shoes, Kiki-baby. And don't let Kasumi see your shoes in the house."

Keona growled almost inaudibly, then ripped his shoes off his feet and hurriedly put his pants on. He was about to go for his shoes again, when Nabiki slapped him hard on the back of the head. "Ow! Damn bitch, what the fuck was that for?" he snarled as he stood up and whirled on her.

"First off," Nabiki began in a frosty tone of voice, "that's the last time you ever call me 'bitch'. I'm not a bitch, or a ho', or whatever. Continued use of such terms will bring you only misery, I promise you that." Now that she'd gotten his attention, she said what she really wanted to say. "Second, don't be an idiot. Do you really think that my father could force me into a marriage I didn't want? Kasumi and I run this household, regardless of what anyone else might like you to think. Ranma protects the household. My father and Uncle Genma are really more like...breathing interior decor, if you will. Other than consuming vast amounts of the household income in the form of cigarettes, liquor and food, they really don't do much besides play shogi and think up ridiculous plans to get Ranma and Akane hitched."

Keona paused to consider that for a moment, and then said, "I guess I didn't think of that."

"Of course you didn't. That's why you need me; to think for you." She said affectionately, as she pressed her naked breasts against his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

He snorted out a short laugh, and said, "Whatever, girl. Tell yourself whatever you need to." Bending his face to hers, he kissed her softly and then extricated himself from her grasp. Getting the rest of his clothes together, he continued getting dressed.

"You're still going to leave?" She asked incredulously.

Keona raised an eyebrow at her as he put his shirt on. "What...you want I should go to dinner half-naked?"

* * *

Takai and Sato sat in Sato's living room, smoking a blunt and drinking Hennessy. "So let me get this straight...Takeda is after Kiki, because Kiki clipped some Red Oni bitch that was in on the drive-by that got him and Yasuo?"

Takai nodded his head in response, and said, "That's about the size of it. There's some other shit going on between the Yakahito and the Sun Yee On, I know that. If the Red Oni get's into it with an affiliate of the Yakahito it could cause trouble between the Yakahito and the Sun Yee On."

"Damn homie, that's deep. That's fucked up." Taking a long hit off the blunt, he passed it to Takai. Still trying to hold in his hit, he said in a tight, strained voice, "Man, I thought you was supposed to be down with Yakahito. What happened to that?"

Takai shrugged as he finished taking his hit. "Don't matter. As soon as Takeda finds out Keona ain't dead, I will be."

Sato took a long, slow drink off the Hennessy, and then said, "Don't you worry 'bout that, man. You looked after our boy, even when Takeda was involved. You got heart Takai, no matter what anyone else says. You definitely got heart, man." Taking another swig off the bottle, he said, "I got your back."

"Good to know." Takai said, and meant it. He leaned back comfortably on the plastic covered couch that Sato's mother owned, and said, "Still, that just means you need to be careful too. No talking to anyone about this."

"Shit man, you ain't gotta tell me how to act. I been livin' this shit since day one boy." Sato was about to continue, when he stopped and glanced towards the hallway that led to the bedrooms. His cousin, Mihoshi, was standing there, her eyes a little wide at the sight in front of her. Takai's pistol was sitting on the table in front of him, and both men had sacks of weed siting out on the table. It was more than she'd ever seen, and the gun was the first she'd ever seen that wasn't on a soldier or on TV.

"Sato...I was just coming out to call a friend."

Pointing to the small kitchen area, he said, "You know where the phone is." As she approached it, he said, "Who you callin'?"

"Just a friend I met at the mall last week. I talked to her earlier and she said she was going out with some other girls tonight, and to give her a call if I felt like going." Mihoshi replied, her face pensive. She knew her cousin didn't like her hanging around in North Juuban without him, but she very much doubted that's where they'd be.

"How you gettin' around?" Sato asked, his tone firm.

"She borrowed her dad's car."

"Where you goin'?"

Mihoshi sighed, and said, "Do you have to keep track of my every move?"

"Yes, I do actually." Sato intoned emphatically, adding, "You have any idea what your mother would do to me if I let something happen to you? It's easy as hell to get hurt in this town. You think guys see you walkin' around on the block and don't know that you're a rich girl? You're pretty, and that gets their attention right away. They know you have money 'cause you gots all them designer jeans 'n' shit. And you just got here, so you don't know shit. They can tell that too." Sato took a big hit off the blunt, passed it to Takai, and said, "But they also know that you're my cousin. I made sure of that. That's why people leave you alone around here, instead of sayin' shit to you like they do all the other girls. That's why you _ain't_ been called worse than bitch or ho' since you got here."

Mihoshi frowned deeply, and said, "Get to the point Sato." The last statement had seriously grated on her nerves. She hated being called by either name, and that seemed to be the only thing that men called her in North Juuban. She was always either a bitch or a ho', no matter how polite, how sweet, how attractive, how whatever she was!

"The point is, outside of about a three block radius no one knows who the fuck you are, other than some good-lookin', young, naive little rich girl who wandered into the wrong part of town. And that's why girls your age get raped and murdered in the NJ." Sato finished sagely.

Mihoshi rolled her eyes, and said, "I'm going to be with like...five friends! Who's going to attack six girls?"

Sato sat up straight and slammed his open palm down on the coffee table in front of him, causing Takai's pistol, and Mihoshi as well, to jump. "GODDAMMIT GIRL, TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK YOU'RE GOIN'!" he roared, his face set in a mask of anger.

"Sato, what's goin' on baby?" his mother called from her bedroom.

"Nothin' mama! Don't worry about it!" There was no response, so he turned his gaze to Mihoshi and waited for her answer.

Mihoshi's lower lip began to quiver, but she managed to bite out, "We're going to Shibuya to go shopping."

Calming almost instantly, Sato reclined against the backrest of the couch again, and said, "Make sure you got your phone. And you best answer if I call."

"Fine." She snapped, before going into the kitchen to call her friend.

Sato turned back to Takai, and said, "So he really can't go anywhere right now, huh?"

"Nope."

Sato nodded slowly, and said, "So how the fuck is he gonna get out of this?"

"I don't know." Takai scratched the bridge of his large nose, and then sniffed. Shaking his head, he repeated, "I don't know."

"Can you talk to Takeda?" Sato asked, rather optimistically.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Takai asked him, his eyes going wide at the mere thought. "Not a chance in hell! I'd be dead!"

Sato again nodded slowly, and was about to speak, when his cousin entered the room. "I'll be in my room. Ami will be here in about thirty minutes. Let me know when she's here."

"Yeah, sure thing cuz." Sato said. He waited until she'd walked down the hallway and he heard her bedroom door close, before saying, "We'll just have to take out Takeda."

"Are you nuts? There's no way!" Takai's eyes grew even larger and for a moment, Sato worried that they might pop out of his head.

"What the fuck are _you_ talkin' about?" Sato asked languidly, a slow grin spreading across his face. "There's always a way. And we're gonna find it."

"You're crazy, man."

"I'm still here, ain't I?" Sato asked, putting the blunt to his lips and inhaling.

Takai shook his head ruefully, and chuckled. "I guess you are, huh?" Coming to a second life-altering decision within a week, Takai lifted his bottle of Hennessy and said, "Well, here's to being crazy then."

Blowing out a billowing cloud of white pot smoke, Sato grinned and raised his bottle as well, and said, "To icin' Takeda-sama."


	9. The Four Rooms

Sorry it took so long for me to update. I've been a little wrapped up in my Star Wars fic, as well as work. Hopefully I'll be able to update a little sooner next time. If anyone gets crazy and decides to post a review, I'd be very appreciative. Thanks for reading.

* * *

You gotta put a smile on. Make everyone think shit is cool. Let them know that you're cool, and that things ain't getting to you; let them know you're maintaining. You gotta put a smile on, so that they can't see the cold, icy hatred that lies just beneath the surface. Because if people start to figure out what's going on with you, you've made yourself vulnerable. You've given someone too much knowledge of yourself. You've opened yourself up for betrayal. Of course, who would know that better than me? I made myself vulnerable. I played fast and loose with the big boy's, and got knocked down by the one man I thought I could trust. I was stupid, and allowed myself to get complacent. I slipped up, and I nearly paid for it with my life. But see, that's all okay. Because I didn't. And because of that, Takeda is gonna pay with his.

But first things first...to get to the top, you gotta start at the bottom. Case in point: "What the fuck, man? I don't fucking know, okay!"

You see, sometimes you can't go for the goal right away. You need a little starter goal, something attainable that will build your confidence. A diversion, if you will.

"That's just _not_ what I heard homeboy. That what you heard Sato?"

"That ain't what I heard Kiki."

The problem with starting at the bottom is that nobody knows shit. I'm rapidly discovering this. Revenge is a lot harder than it looks; it requires no small amount of patience, and that's something I don't have in abundance. I have a tendency to rush things sometimes.

"Look man, Ichiro hasn't been around here in three...maybe four months."

"Quit fucking bullshittin' me. My boy here told me that he got it on good faith that Ichiro's been hanging around here...you calling him a liar? Because Sato don't like being called a liar."

Sometimes though, patience is the best virtue. You just have to wait for something to give.

"I swear by the Kami, I don't know, I-" _BANG!_ "Ooohhh FUCK! My fucking leg! What the fuck?"

"He told you...don't fuckin' call me a liar."

And when it does, you just sit back and let fear and pain do their jobs.

"Okay! Okayokayokayokay! He comes here early on Saturday evenings, and goes in the back way. He stays in the champagne room with the girls and his homie's for a few hours and parties it up, and then he takes off again. I don't know where he comes from, or where he goes. He's been tryin' to lie low since we pulled the drive-by."

And sometimes they talk a little too much.

"Your cooperation has been much appreciated. Now, I know that the leg hurts...believe me, I do. I've been shot too, you know?"

Aiko is a Christian girl, and she knows all kinds of scripture, but the only one she ever quoted to me was: "Exodus 20:13. Thou shalt not kill." I know that she'd be disappointed in me right now, sad and angry really, if she knew what I was doing.

"I'm gonna do something for you that's gonna take that pain in your leg away. Just sit still, you won't feel a thing."

"Oh Kami, no! Please no, no, no, no, no, please don't fucking kill me!"

"Hey man, you know how the old saying goes. Eye for an eye motherfucker."

Of course, I've never been much of a people pleaser.

* * *

**The day before...**

Sato slowly passed his gaze over the well-manicured, if somewhat battle-scarred, backyard. There was a koi pond, and a dojo. He'd never actually seen a house with a dojo, or a koi pond. Well, on TV maybe, but that was different. Leaning over to Kai, he whispered, "Shit dawg, these folks must be fuckin' loaded!"

Kai nodded slowly, his eyes roving around the yard as well. They were startled by a cheerful voice speaking from directly behind them. "Would you two like some cookies? I just baked them."

Sato turned around, and was greeted by the same vision of domestic perfection that had answered the door when he and Kai had arrived with Aiko. "Yes please, miss." Sato answered, confused as to why he was being so polite to her. He normally would have just grabbed a few off the tray and started eating. Taking a few cookies, he said, "Thanks."

"You're welcome!" She smiled sunnily and turned to Kai. "Kai-san, would you like some cookies?"

"Yes please." Kai took a few as well, and they both watched the understated sway of her hips as she turned and walked away. Turning to Sato, Kai said, "She has no idea how fine she is, does she?"

Stuffing a cookie in his mouth, Sato shook his head, and said, "Nope."

"Damn. What I wouldn't give for a piece of that."

As Kasumi stepped into the house, Keona walked out, dressed in a pair of baggy black jeans and a dark blue long-sleeved t-shirt. He crossed the yard to where they stood, and said, "In the dojo."

Sato and Kai followed Keona into the dojo, and sat on the floor as Keona slid the shoji doors shut. "Keep your fucking voices down. People here are nosy." Keona said by way of greeting.

"Good to see you too." Sato said. He took a bite of a cookie, and said, "What the fuck is goin'on?"

"Remember that Hakiro kid?" Keona asked, sitting down cross-legged, facing his friends.

Kai nodded his head, a sneer on his face. "Yeah, that Oni dude that got popped in his bedroom a while back."

Keona nodded, and said, "That's the one. He was in on that drive-by with Ichiro."

Kai stuffed a cookie in his mouth, but Sato chuckled, and said, "So you did that shit, huh?"

"Me and Takai." Keona sniffed and then leaned towards Kai and Sato. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he said, "Takeda put a ban on any of his boys starting shit with the Oni's."

Sato's amused expression told him how much sense that made. "What the fuck? The Oni's start shit with everyone."

Keona grinned and nodded, and said, "Here's the hitch. Takeda is in the middle of brokering a territory exchange between the Sun Yee On and some new Triad that just got here. Shit is tense, and I guess I seriously set them back when I capped that kid in his house."

"So he tried to have you killed?" Kai asked, incredulous. It was unthinkable. Takeda had been Keona's benefactor for years.

"It's business, man. But yeah, that's about the size of it." Keona replied, only the barest hint of bitterness in his soft voice.

"Shit." Sato muttered softly. "So what do we do now?"

Keona raised an eyebrow, and said, "You sure you're down? This is the Yakuza we're talking about."

"You know me." Sato said. "I'm always down."

"Me too." Kai said.

"Alright then...we can't go after Takeda directly. Not yet. So we're gonna go after him indirectly first."

"How we gonna do that?" Sato asked.

"Simple shit, homie. I've killed people for Takeda before. I know what calling cards to leave. I'm gonna finish what I started with Ichiro and his boys."

Kai looked a bit confused, and said, "How is that gonna hurt Takeda?"

Sato rolled his eyes, and said, "The Oni are down with Sun Yee On. A few bodies with Yakahito callin' cards or Takeda's name associated with em' will make the whole thing blow up in their faces. The Sun Yee On can't allow that kind of disrespect."

Keona nodded slowly, a small smile on his face. "Exactly."

Kai seemed to finally grasp the concept, and grinned appreciatively. "So...when do we start?"

* * *

Akane and Nabiki sat on Nabiki's bed, flipping through Sailor Moon manga. Akane had been attempting to keep quiet, as she knew that her sister detested being interrupted while reading, but finally she could stay silent no longer. Setting her manga down, she said, "Nabiki...who were those guys that came over with Aiko?"

Nabiki shrugged. "Friends of Keona's. I don't really know them." Her eyes never left her manga, and her body language clearly displayed her lack of desire to converse.

Akane sighed, and said, "Well, they didn't look like very nice guys. One of them had tattoos! Did you see them? What if he's like...Yakuza or something?"

Nabiki snorted, and said, "Trust me, neither of those guys are Yakuza." _The things you don't know little sister._ Nabiki thought to herself, as she thought of who the gangbangers had come to visit. While Sato and Kai were most certainly not involved with the Yakuza, Keona most certainly was. She could only hope that the lack of people shooting at him in the last few weeks would convince him that a peaceful, low-profile life was the way to go. _I can't believe I'm thinking these things. _Flipping her manga closed, Nabiki said, "Look Akane, they just haven't seen Kiki in a while and he wanted them to come over."

"Why is Keona staying here again?" Akane asked, suspicion written all over her face.

"Because he was sick, and he couldn't afford to stay in a hospital. Dr. Tofu agreed to treat him for free." It seemed little sister was getting more observant. She was right to be suspicious.

"When is he leaving?"

Nabiki sighed, exasperated, and said, "I really couldn't say Akane. Probably not too long from now. When Dr. Tofu is sure he's all better, he'll go home." Raising an eyebrow at her little sister's odd behavior, Nabiki asked, "Why are you so concerned about it?"

Akane sat up and shrugged, suddenly finding the comforter very interesting. "I don't know...I guess something about him just seems a little off. He just seems like trouble, you know what I mean?"

Nabiki shook her head, and replied, "No sis, I don't. He seems fine to me. Besides, if he's trouble, what's Ranma?"

Akane slowly nodded her head, a rueful smile on her face, and said, "I guess you're right. I guess I was sort of jumping to conclusions; making assumptions...you know, because of where he's from and all. Weird, huh?"

Nabiki stared disbelievingly at her sister, and muttered, "Yeah, weird." _Oh, the irony._ Nabiki thought, as she silently reflected on the fact that for the first time in her life, she'd seen her sister recant a snap judgement she'd made about someone, and it was the one time she'd been right. Keona _was_ trouble, but on a level that Ranma had never attained. While Ranma brought all sorts of supernatural oddities and strange, mystical cultures to the Tendo's doorstep, Keona's presence, if it was discovered, could bring a hail of Yakuza bullets. Keona himself wasn't the most stable of people, and Nabiki thanked the gods that she'd gotten rid of his gun when Naomi had brought it to her. If she'd given it back to him, there's no telling what he might have done by now. The likelihood that he would try to defend himself against one of the Nerima Wrecking Crew with his fists when he had bullets instead was slim...as was the martial artists chance for survival if it didn't occur to them that they'd be faced with a gun. Of course, since no one had ever pulled a gun in a Nerima fight, no one would ever expect that. Advantage: Keona. Life sentence: Keona.

Shaking her head to banish the negative thoughts, she said, "Anyway, I wouldn't worry too much about it. It's not like he's a crazed killer or anything."

Akane laughed at that, and said, "You never know Nabiki." Putting a conspiratorial look on her face, she said, "Things aren't always what they seem!"

Nabiki grabbed one of her plush pillows and whapped her sister in the face with it. "Oh, knock it off Akane."

Akane giggled, and said, "I was just joking."

"I know. I just felt like hitting you with a pillow. It's not often I get to physically abuse you. You've been able to kick my ass since we were in grade school." Nabiki smiled at her little sister's responding grin, and reached out to ruffle her hair.

Akane shrieked loudly, and fended off her sister's hand, leaping off the bed with great alacrity. "Don't mess with my hair!" She yelled, no longer smiling. She quickly put a hand up to make sure it was all in place, and then scowled. "That's too far."

Nabiki held up her hands in a placating gesture, and said, "Whoa, relax sis. No harm meant."

Akane slowly wandered back over to the bed, and then looked out the window. "You know, they've been in that dojo almost all day. What could they be doing?"

Nabiki put a finger to her lips in mock thought, and said, "Gee Akane, I don't know...talking maybe?"

"Ha ha, very funny. What would they be talking about for that long? It's almost sunset now."

"I'm sure I haven't the faintest idea."

* * *

"And that's how we start it off." Sato and Kai both nodded appreciatively. "So first things first. Bucki, over at the club. He was in the car with Ichiro, and they been close for a long time."

Kai nodded his head, and said, "I'll scope the place tonight, find out when he's workin' the booth next."

"Cool. Sato, I want that housekey back when you get back from my place. I don't care who else you call to help out, but don't call Takai. He can't be seen over there. Takeda might think something's up. Just whatever you do, get that safe over to your place."

Sato nodded his head in response, and said, "I got you, big boy. I'll call the dojo when everything's kosher."

"Alright then." Licking his lips slowly, Keona looked back and forth between Sato and Kai. "Ya'll are good friends, you know that?"

Kai shrugged, and said, "For life, man. You shoulda been a Serpent, homeboy."

Keona grinned. "Fucking nitpicker."

Sato shook his head, and said, "Anyways, you should go inside and spend some time with your sister. She came to see you, you know? We'll go take care of business."

All three young men stood up and walked out of the dojo. They crossed the yard, and went into the house, and Keona escorted his friends to the front door. Quietly, he said, "Pick up a few extra bricks of ammo with the strap...and bring a fucking bottle of whiskey." They did their handshakes with each other, and then Keona said, "Holler at me."

"Later days, homie." Sato said as he walked out the door.

Kai smirked, and said, "Peace, Kiki. Talk to you tomorrow." He paused on the front doorstep for a moment, and then turned around. "I'm glad you're alive, man."

Keona chuckled, and said, "Yeah, me too."

Kai followed Sato down the walkway after the door had shut behind him, and he said, "Where the fuck's the bus station in this neighborhood?"

"I saw one back this way." Sato said, turning right as they left the Tendo property. "There was a restaurant near it...little Chinese place. We can catch some grub and then ride back to NJ."

"Cool. Can't go clubbin' on a empty stomach, you know what I'm sayin'?" Kai grinned, and Sato nodded his head.

"I hear ya." Spitting a gob of phlegm on the sidewalk, Sato yawned loudly and then said, "Fuck! I need to get some sleep before I do this shit. You go ahead to the club, I'll hit up Kiki's place tomorrow morning. I'll meet up with you around six-thirty or so, and we'll head back this way."

Kai nodded again, not saying anything. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day, if this afternoon's discussion gave any indication of what the near future would bring. It was difficult for him to imagine what would come of everything they'd talked about, but he hoped it was for the best. _Good luck Kiki...shit, good luck to all of us._ Kai thought somberly to himself. _We're all gonna need it._

* * *

One day is such a short span of time, that to remember one specific day requires an event on a scale no less monumental than death or birth. That's why we remember our lives not through images and cerebral thought, but through scents and physical sensations; certain foods, and certain songs. An old t-shirt, or a particular perfume. Because it is so difficult to recall specific details of day to day life, we turn instead to the things that recall a certain era of our lives, or a particular emotion we felt. But today is a day that I'm sure will live with me for the rest of my life. I have a feeling about it, sitting there on the edge of Nabiki's bed. She's still asleep, snoring softly, a little smile on her beautiful face. She's a heavy sleeper. I shake my head slowly, and rub the sleep out of my eyes. Standing up, I grab a robe and put it on, then head for the furo. After making sure that the occupied sign isn't up, I step inside and drop the robe, before then making sure the sign _is_ up. Before washing, I examine my scars in the mirror. All of them are dark purple, and raised up from the rest of the flesh. They are prominent reminders of why I'm doing what I'm doing.

After cleaning myself with cold water and soap, I step into the furo for a nice long soak. Unfortunately, I can't make it ten minutes without an interruption. The door slides open, and I instantly squeeze my eyes tightly shut, readying myself for Hurricane Akane. Thankfully, the only thing I hear is a very male voice saying, "Oh, sorry Keona. I didn't know you were in here man. Didn't see the sign."

I open my eyes briefly, and say, "No worries. Just me." I close my eyes again, and hear Ranma cleaning himself-uh, herself, before stepping into the furo across from me. Truth be told, I'm a little weirded out by it. NJ culture is more reflective of western society than it is Japanese, and there's only one public bath house...and that place really caters to men of a specific type; not my kind of place.

After a few minutes of sitting in silence, Ranma says, "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" I ask, puzzled by his question.

"You know...talk to girls so easy."

I open my eyes and look at him, and I can see that he's profoundly uncomfortable asking me this. Shrugging minutely, I answer, "I don't know. What's there to be afraid of? They're just ho's man."

Ranma's eyes bug comically at the statement, and he whispers, "Do you have any idea what Nabiki would do if she heard you say that?"

"She can break up with me." I mutter. "Other than that, she can't do shit."

Ranma seems pole-axed by my answer, and I sigh, and say, "Look man...your problem isn't that the women in your life are too difficult. It's that you're too much of a pussy."

He bristles at that comment, and I'm pretty sure that if we weren't naked, I might have just gotten an ass-whippin'. "What the hell do you mean by that?" he asks, raising a fist menacingly.

"I meant what I said. You're a pussy. Just 'cause you ain't afraid to throw down when someone starts shit doesn't mean you've got balls. If you want Akane to stop walking all over you, stop letting her hit you with that mallet. If I was you, I'd slap her across the fuckin' mouth next time she tries that shit."

Ranma seems a little pissed at that too...damn, dude's got thin skin. "I'll never hit Akane." he growls softly, his fist clenched so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.

"Then get out of the way the next time she swings that thing at you. Every time you stand there and let her hit you, it sends a message. It says: 'you can do whatever you want to me, and I'll just keep comin' back for more.' And you should probably stop insulting her looks and her cooking. Women all wanna be beautiful, and they take it to heart every time someone tells em' they're not." I pause for a moment to let that sink in. He seems to grasp what I'm saying a moment later, and I say, "See what I'm saying? Every time you tell her how uncute she is, and how thick she is, and how unfeminine she is, she believes you. Or at least, a part of her does."

The color drains out of Ranma's face, and he says, "You're kidding me! I never actually mean any of it. I think she's..." He lowers his voice to a whisper, and says, "I think she's really...you know...pretty and all that."

I shrug my shoulders and say, "Then start telling her that instead."

He thinks about that for a moment, and then says, "What about her cooking? That really is awful!"

I raise an eyebrow, and smirk at him. "Ranma...when you suck ass at something, do you like it when people constantly point it out to you and rub it in your face?"

He shrugs his shoulders, and replies, "Sure. That's how you get motivated."

He says it so matter-of-factly that I almost believe that shit myself. "What fucking moron told you that?"

"My dad." he reply's, still not really listening to what he's saying.

"Look man...just because it's cool for you don't mean it's cool for everyone else. Personally, when I'm having a hard time with something, if someone gives me shit about it, I just wanna fuckin' clock em'." I reach up and scratch an itch on the tip of my nose, and then continue. "Why don't you just try telling her nicely?"

Ranma's eyes bulge out, and he half-growls, half-whispers, "How the hell am I supposed to do that? I ain't any good with words."

I grin and say, "Ask Nabiki."

His face goes even paler, if that's possible, and he says, "I can't do that! I'd be in debt forever if I asked for her help with something like that!" Suddenly, his demeanor changes completely, and he grins broadly. "Hey, you could help me!"

"I already did." I say to him. "I told you what to do, and what to say."

He shakes his head negatively, and says, "No you didn't...you did not!" He frowns in thought, and then says, "You just gave me an _idea_. You didn't actually tell me what to say."

I roll my eyes, and say, "Think about it like fighting. It's a fluid situation, and every move is un-choreographed but carefully calculated. Just like your opponents, each bitch is different, and there are different ways that they like to be talked to, different things they're interested in, and different buttons to push.." I lean my head back against the rim of the furo, and say, "There's no blueprints for dealing with girls. You just kinda gotta wing it, you know what I'm sayin'?"

Ranma nods his head slowly, and says, "I think so. I gotta be adaptable...like when I run into a new technique in a fight!"

I nod my head, and say, "Something like that. I 'm getting out. I gotta catch a little more shuteye. I've got shit to do later."

Ranma scrunches his eyebrows together in confusion, and says, "Like what? I thought you couldn't go anywhere."

"Yeah, well...things change." I mutter with a shrug. I stand up and climb out of the furo, grabbing my robe and putting it on. I open the door and step out into the dressing room, before passing into the hallway. I enter Nabiki's room and go to the dresser. She cleared out two drawers for me, down on the bottom. I wonder sometimes if that's a statement. Probably; who cares. I pull out a pair of boxers, some socks, a pair of baggy tan khaki's and a white long-sleeved t-shirt with a dark blue Nike swoop on the left breast. I quickly dress and I grab a Nike hat to match my shirt; white with a blue swoop. I drop the hat on my head, cocked slightly to the right, and take one more look at Nabiki. She's sleeping peacefully still, although she's stopped snoring. She giggles softly in her sleep and nuzzles into her thick comforter, and I smile at the picture it presents. She looks almost innocent right now. Of course, I know better. It's just too bad she had to go and get involved with somebody like me.

Stepping out of the room, I walk down to the living room. Breakfast has come and gone; Nabiki and I slept in later than I thought. I walk into the kitchen and find Kasumi finishing up the dishes from the morning's meal. "Oh, good morning Keona." She says with a smile as I enter the kitchen. "Would you like me to fix you something to eat?"

I shake my head, and I smile at the girl I've almost come to think of as another sister. "No...no worries, you know? I'm good."

"Oh my, you must be famished though! You missed breakfast. Are you sure you won't eat something?" She asks.

I wave off her question and say, "I'll find something. You ain't gotta worry about me."

"If you're sure then." She says, and goes back to washing.

I open the fridge and quickly scan the contents. Pulling out a large tupperware full of leftover fried potstickers, I put them in the microwave for a minute, and then grab some soy vinegar and chili oil out of the spice cabinet. "Thanks Kasumi." I say as I take my leave of the kitcehn. I walk back up to Nabiki's room, and quietly open the door. She's still sleeping. Damn...

"Nabiki." I whisper, crossing the room to the bed and setting the food down on her bedside table. "Nabiki, wake up baby." I reach out and touch her shoulder, giving her a gentle shake. She moans softly and grabs my hand, wrapping her arms around it like it's a teddy bear. She mutters something I can't understand, and begins snoring softly. "Nabiki, wake up." I repeat, a little louder this time.

She cracks an eye, and stares blearily up at me. "Kiki-baby? What are you doing up so early?" she mutters softly.

"It's almost eleven." I reply.

Her other eye opens slowly, and she pushes herself to a sitting position. "Are those Kasumi's potsticker's I smell?" she asks. I gesture to the bedside table, and then open up the chili oil and soy vinegar. Pouring small puddles of each in the corners of the tupperware container's lid, I grab a potsticker and dip it in each sauce before taking a bite. Nabiki grins and follows suit. "Breakfast in bed...pretty romantic there, Kiki."

I smile and finish off my potsticker. "I try." After we've eaten a few more, and Nabiki's mouth is good and full, I drop the bomb. "I have to do some shit tonight."

Nabiki nearly chokes, but manages to chew and swallow the mouthfull of food before speaking. "What? Are you kidding me? What could you possible have to do, and where?"

"I have to go see someone over in Shibuya. It'll all be low-key, just a bank run. I need to do this." I lie smoothly, staring her straight in the eye. There's not even the slightest twitch on my face that could betray me, and she buys it, deflating completely. I impressed at myself. Even Nabiki can't catch me in a lie.

"Okay...I'm sorry, I have no reason not to trust you. Just be careful, okay?" She smiles at me, and leans over to give me a kiss.

I smile back after the kiss, and reply, "Ain't I always?"

* * *

Sato shifted uncomfortably in the drivers seat of his mother's lime green 1994 Subaru Legacy. Kai sat next to him in the passengers seat, staring absently out the window. It was almost seven in the evening, and the two of them were nearing the Tendo Dojo in Nerima. "Kai, give Kiki a call. Let him know we're almost there."

Kai nodded and pulled out his cell phone. Dialing the Tendo Dojo he waited until he got an answer. It was the middle girl, Nabiki, the one that Keona was seeing. "Hello?"

"Yeah, is Kiki there? This is Kai."

"Hold on." There was some muffled shouting, and several seconds later Keona came on the line.

"What up?"

"Get your shoes on big man, we'll be there in a minute."

"You got what I need?" Keona asked testily.

Kai looked over at Sato and shook his head. To Keona, he said, "Do you doubt me?"

"No man. It's cool. I'll be outside."

"Alright. See you in a couple."

"Peace." Keona hung up, and Kai put his cell phone back in his pocket.

"He'll be ready." Kai said to Sato.

"Cool." They drove the last few blocks to the Dojo in silence, and when they arrived, they found Keona standing on the sidewalk outside. He had the hood of his black sweatshirt pulled up, and the brim of his black baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.

Keona walked over to the car and got in the back seat. "What up?"

Sato shook his head. "Takin' care of business."

Keona chuckled and said, "I heard that." He yawned loudly, and said, "So you sure he's gonna be there?"

Kai turned in his seat and nodded. "Yeah, he'll be there. Workin' the booth like always. It'll be early enough though, not many people should be there."

Keona shrugged and looked out the window. "I don't care about that. No one will see shit." he said softly.

Kai rolled a blunt for them to smoke on the way, and they passed around a bottle of bourbon that Sato had taken from Keona's house. By the time they pulled onto the street that "The Four Rooms" night-club occupied, they were all feeling pleasantly buzzed from the combination of THC and alcohol. Kai reached down underneath his seat, and pulled a glock 19 from underneath. He handed it back to Keona, along with two full clips. Sato said, "Brand new goods homie. Just picked it up this afternoon."

Keona slid a clip into the handgrip and pulled the slide, chambering a round. "Thanks." was his only reply.

Sato glanced back at his friend, and noted that he seemed a little distant. "You alright?" he asked, as he pulled the car to the curb about two blocks from the club.

Keona nodded his head, and said, "I'm straight. Let's do this shit."

"Alright then...let's do it." All three young men got out of the car, and Kai walked around to the drivers side. Sato looked him in the eye, and said, "When you see us come out of that club, get on us, you understand me? Don't fuckin' leave us hangin' and make us come to you."

Kai rolled his eyes, and said, "Will you just go take care of this shit? I'm fuckin' hungry."

Sato and Keona walked away from the car as Kai got in the drivers seat. Sato pulled the brim of his hat low, and pulled the hood of his purple hoody up over his head. He could already feel the rhythmic pulsing of the bass-heavy American rap that the first room in the club played. The two of them walked the last couple blocks to the club in silence, both of them focused on what they were about to do. As they came to the block that the club took up, they saw that there was already a substantial line forming. Keona and Sato bypassed the line, and Keona walked straight up to the burly, tough-looking bouncer. "Takeda-san sends his regards." He muttered quietly, without looking up, and the bouncer quickly stepped aside to allow them to pass.

As they stepped into the club, the sounds of Ice Cube's "Check Yo Self" assaulted their ears. Sato smiled thinly as the second verse began, the lyrics seeming all too appropriate for the situation.

_Tricks wanna step to Cube and then they get played,_

'_Cause they_ _bitch-made, _

_Pullin' out a switchblade,_

_That's kinda trifle 'cause that's an eyeful AK-47_

_Assault rifle,_

_Hold the .50 I'm nifty-pow,_

_Got a new style,_

_Watch out now_

His own .50 was resting comfortably in the back waistband of his pants, with a full clip and one in the chamber. He followed Keona through the club's first room, towards a set of blacklit doors on the left wall. These doors led to the raised DJ's booth that overlooked the enormous dancefloor. At the moment, the floor was only moderately crowded, and movement wasn't difficult. As they approached the doors, two security guards, dressed uniformly in black pants and t-shirts,stepped in their way.

"Employees only in the booth." said the one on the left, a thick-necked Japanese man who looked like a body-buildier. Sato pulled a billfold out of his pocket and peeled several 10,000 yen notes off, handing a few to each guard.The muscle man smiled pleasantly, and said, "Pleasure doing business with you." before they both stepped away from the doors to busy themselves with something else.

Sato pushed open one of the doors, and they both stepped into the small stairway that led to the booth. "Here we go." They walked calmly up the stairs, but inside, Sato's stomach was doing flip-flops. His adrenaline was already pumping, and he was ready for a fight. When they entered the booth, they found Bucki sitting on a tall stool in front of several sets of turntables and mixing boards. He glanced over as the door to the booth opened, then went back to his music. A second later, his head jerked back towards them. Sato grinned nastily. "What up bitch?"

Bucki was not a smart man, but he was a fast man. He sprang towards the small table that sat behind his set-up, going for the pistol that lay on it. He could almost feel the pistol grip in his hand, when his stool came flying across the booth to strike him in the leg. He toppled to the floor, landing face-first on thehardwood surface. He yelped loudly as his nose broke, and quickly tried to scramble to his feet.

Sato took three long steps to where Bucki was trying to untangle his legs from the stool that Keona had kicked into his path, and kicked him hard in the ribs. The air rushed from his lungs with a great wheezing whoosh, and he dropped back to the floor in the fetal position, clutching his mid-section. Sato drew his pistol, and Keona did likewise. Sato crouched next to Bucki, and said, "You're gonna keep the music goin' you hear me?" When Bucki nodded his understanding, Sato grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and tugged roughly, helping him to his feet.

Blood streamed from both of Bucki's nostrils, and his mouth gaped open as he tried to breathe despite rapidly swelling sinuses. When Sato gave him a rough shove towards the turntables, he snapped his head around and snarled, "Watch it!" A moment later, Keona's pistol was inches from his face, and his hands flew up in supplication. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. No harm homie, you know? It's all good...it's cool."

He continued to babble untilKeona growled, "Shut the fuck up." He turned to look at the Yakuza thug, and he paled visibly when he got a good look at Keona's face. He'd finally realized who he was dealing with. A man who was supposed to be dead. He turned hurriedly back to the turntables, and obeyed promptly when Keona said, "I wanna hear something...put some Biggie Smalls on. How about 'Gimme Da Loot'? And program a few after that."

Sato grinned malevolently as Bucki complied with the "request". It was time to get down to business.

* * *

"Oh Kami, no! Please no, no, no, no, no, please don't fucking kill me!"

"Hey man, you know how the old saying goes. Eye for an eye motherfucker."

"Fuck, I'm sorry! I'm sorry about Yasuo! He wasn't supposed to get hit!" He exclaims, his voice reaching me over the beginnings of the gun battle at the end of Biggie Smalls' "Gimme Da Loot".

"I'm sorry too." Bucki's eyes widen with fear as he stares down the barrel of my glock. He opens his mouth for one last plea for mercy; I don't wanna hear it.My pistol bucks lightly in my hand, the sound blending in perfectly with the gunshots emanating from the club's state-of-the-art sound-system. Bucki's body falls back against the wall of the booth, his head resting in the center of a corona of blood and gore. A thin rivulet of blood trickles from the small "third-eye" in the center of his forehead, and his legs are twitching feebly. Sato steps up next to me and brings his Desert Eagle to bear. He squeezes of a single round, and the body seizes up once before going completely still. I stare at the new wound that Sato's .50 caliber made. They're gonna have to go to dental records if he doesn't have ID on him.

Sato slaps me on the back, and says, "Let's go." We exit the booth as the last gunshots fade away at the end of the song, and it goes into the next programmed selection. I don't even hear the music now. The gunshots are still ringing in my ears, the confined quarters and hardwood floors having amplified the sound greatly. We walk at a sedate pace through the club, keeping our hoods up and our hats pulled low. We get a few looks here and there, but most people are smart enough to keep their eyes on something else. I keep my gaze straight ahead as we leave the club, and moments later, Kai is pulling up to the curb.

I hop in the back, and Sato gets in the front, and we're gone. As we drive away from the club, Kai lights up a blunt he must have rolled while he waited. He takes a big hit and then hands it back to me. The smoke fills my lungs, building on the buzz I already had. I haven't smoked in weeks, so the buzz is starting to hit me pretty hard. Nabiki's gonna be pissed. I laugh at the absurdity of the thought, after what we just did. "You alright?" Sato asks me, as I choke on my laughter and spew smoke from both my mouth and my nose.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just pass me the Jim." I say once I get myself under control again. I pass him the blunt as he passes me the whiskey, and I put the bottle to my lips, taking a long swig. The familiar fire burns a comforting path down my throat and settles warmly in my stomach. It's almost like coming home, getting drunk and high again for the first time in a while. It's that old feeling of solace that being high gives you, that escape from the unpleasantness of reality. That's why we're always high in the NJ. It makes everything easier. I pass the bottle up to the front, and say, "Why don't you take me home? I should get back to Nabiki."

Sato turns in his seat and raises an eyebrow at me. "You sure man?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm tired."

Sato shrugs and turns back around. "S'cool." Looking over at Kai, he says, "You heard the man."

We turn and begin heading towards the freeway to go back to Nerima. As we pass the weed and whiskey around the car, I think about what we're doing. There's no going back now. Takeda's name is at the door of the club, waiting to be spoken when the Red Oni Clan and the Sun Yee On start asking around about little Bucki. Still, I'm not even done with this part of it yet. I've got two more to kill, two more until I've gotten my retribution for Yasuo. Then, when the Triads have turned on Takeda because of the unsanctioned hits by a 'member' of the Yakahito-Gumi, I'll turn on him too. I'll find him when he's vulnerable, and I'll make him regret the day when Takai introduced us. Death is no longer an option for me. I have to see this through till the end; I have to finish what I started. It's just like Takeda always told me. 'Survival of the fittest; only the strong survive.'


	10. Ain't Nobody Worryin'

After an interminably long wait, here is the next chapter. Sorry it took so damn long, but I've got a lot of things going on right now. Hopefully I'll be able to update again soon.

* * *

What was God thinking when he decided to gift man with freedom of choice? What possessed him to give up his stranglehold on our destinies? Perhaps the desire to be served by those who wished to serve him, rather than those who had no choice in the matter. Angels aren't the shining paragons of righteousness that the priests and Jesus-freaks make them out to be. Would they be so fucking righteous if they had a choice? What if they were suddenly given the option of casting off the bonds of forced servitude, of becoming more than a celestial slave. What would they do? Would they refuse, and continue to serve their Lord with all the dedication and piousness that has so characterized them in all of the old stories? Or would they forsake their creator, forget his true name, lose their faith, and become just like the rest of the pond scum that floats on the surface of every ghetto in the world? 

God made a mistake, I think, when he relinquished his control over us. How big a mistake was it? I don't know. I do know this though: the moment he gave us our freedom, he stopped caring what happened. When was the last time you heard good news that outweighed the bad? Every day in the NJ it's another robbery, another deal, another big bust, another drive-by, another dead kid. Fuck eternal salvation, fuck eternal life; all that heaven bullshit that the priests throw at us is just a fucking cosmic infomercial. We're listening to some overenthusiastic, underpaid, hypocritical salesman trying to sell us on an idea that's even more intangible than the shit they sell on TV. You can't see it, you can't hear it, you can't taste it or touch it. At least on TV you can see what they're selling you. I wouldn't mind a glimpse of that eternal paradise...just a little peek, you know? Just to make sure that I'm actually getting what I'm paying for. What the fuck's the point of being a goody-goody, and letting people shit all over you without doing shit about it, if the promise ain't a sure thing? I just can't take someone's word on that.

So here I am, lying wide awake in Nabiki's room with her naked body pressed up against mine, thinking all of this shit to myself. I always feel a little religious after I kill someone. Or at least, I gotta have it out with myself over the whole God issue. It all just seems so ridiculous to me, the whole 'turn the other cheek' thing. The whole thing should be simple. It all comes down to one thing; them or me. Now, is that a hard decision to make? I didn't think so. So many people condemn that kind of mind-set. They say that people like me are murderers, that we're evil, that we should be locked up forever. But god forbid they ever had to live like us.

God forbid they should grow up on the streets, watching friends die; watching their brothers die. God forbid they should ever have to rob someone to pay for their next meal, or end up shot in a drive-by that wasn't meant for them. What the fuck would they do then? They'd run and cower. They'd hide and never go back. I don't have that luxury. I can't hide. The NJ is my home, more than any other place has ever been; more than the orphanage ever was. It's an integral part of me, the beating heart in my chest, the blood flowing through my veins. I can't run away and pretend it's not there. As such, it's impossible for me to turn the other cheek. I have to respond to every slight, to every insult, to every injury, with equal or greater force. I have to retaliate, and make those who would attack me, fear me. When you let someone step on you, you lose all of your power; everyone turns on you. Weakness in any form is unacceptable.

I look at the girl sleeping next to me, taking in the small, satisfied smile on her face. She's beautiful, and she's more than I could have asked or hoped for. I really do love her, I know that. I've never been one to delude myself about my feelings. But I can't tell her that. I can't let her get too attached to me, or she'll just end up hurt. People like me don't make it old, and that's what she'll eventually be looking for. Someone to grow old with. Huh, shit...I'll be dead before I'm twenty-one. But fuck it man; ain't nobody worryin'.

* * *

Yassine watched as the paramedics carted the body away on a backboard, to be placed on a gurney down on the empty dancefloor and wheeled to the ambulance. From there, the body of Yatsuda Takeo, a.k.a. Bucki, would be taken to the morgue. Akina was downstairs interviewing the doorman and the bartender, and Akagi Makoto of GnO stood behind her, staring at the sticky mess of brains and blood that painted a good part of the wall along the back of the DJ's booth. 

"Well, shit. This really doesn't look good, does it?" Makoto asked, shoving his hands in the pockets of his well-creased suit pants.

Yassine raised an eyebrow, and said, "If that was joke, it was a bad one." She passed her gaze slowly around the crime scene, looking for anything that she might have missed. The crime lab guys had come and gone, and had found two shell casings. Those had been taken to ballistics, along with the two slugs they'd removed from the wall behind the dead man's ruined head. She sighed, and said, "What's it look like to you, Mr. Gang Guy?"

Makoto shrugged his broad shoulders, his hands still in his pockets, and said, "Well, do you want the bad news first, or the good?"

Yassine could feel a heavy pressure building behind her right eye, like a brewing storm about to release hell in her head. She removed her stylish wire-rim glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to will the burgeoning migraine away. "Why not end on a good note? Give me the bad."

"It's certain that this was a revenge killing. I'm almost of a mind to say that whoever did this guy, also did Mr. Hakiro in his bedroom." He reached up with his right hand and scratched the end of his chin, and then shoved the hand back in his pocket. "The whole thing just smacks of bad blood between rival cliques. Your Hakiro kid and Bucki here ran with the same clique, and they both had some bad blood with a kid over in 3 Serpents territory. The kid wasn't a Serpent, but he _was_ dealing with the Yakahito-Gumi."

"What was his name?" Yassine asked.

"Hotatsu Yasuo. Problem is, Yasuo's been dead for a few months now. Took a .45 caliber slug to the side of the head in a drive-by, and we know from a couple of eyewitnesses that Bucki and your other guy were in the car."

Shaking her head, Yassine asked, "If he's dead, then who the hell are you talking about?" She didn't bother asking why neither gangbanger had been picked up for the drive-by. They'd have dumped the guns they used for the shootings, and acquired more from their Triad connections. The car wouldn't pan out either probably. The Red Oni and the Sun Yee On were tight; business partners. There would be no tangible evidence other than eyewitness testimony, and that meant shit when dealing with any mob connected gangsters.

"If you'd let me finish, I'll get to that." Removing his hands from his pocket, Makoto turned and left the DJ booth, starting down the stairs to the door that led to the first room of the club. "Yasuo had a close friend who was shot in the drive-by. Now, this kid has been hanging around with Yasuo for at least as long as we've had a file on him, and that's been a good four years now. I don't know if they've got any further past, but he stayed with them for quite a while. Problem was, he never got arrested. We know that he's involved with the Yakuza as well, but no one's ever managed to pick him up for anything, so we've got no file on the kid. Essentially, we know nothing about him." Taking a deep breath, he said, "The kid ID'd as Ishikawa Iwao at the hospital, but we couldn't talk to him. He was out of it for a few days. By the time we'd verified that it was a false ID, he was moved somewhere else. We tried talking to Yasuo's older sister, who was Yasuo's legal guardian, but she wouldn't say anything. There were no signs of abuse or neglect with either kid; from what the neighbors said, the Hotatsu girl was a model parent. So, no way to get child services involved and get our foot in the door that way."

"So you're thinking that this 'Iwao' character might have survived and decided to go on a little shooting spree?" Yassine asked, knowing it sounded perfectly plausible.

"Something like that. I think that if we can find him, we'll be closer to something."

Yassine nodded her head, and said, "That might pan out, if we could get anyone to give us anything concrete. But this is North Juuban. You know that we're going to get the same answer, no matter who we ask. 'I didn't see anything, I didn't hear anything.' That's the way it is here. It's like the whole neighborhood's sworn a fucking code of silence! You might get one eyewitness on a case if you're lucky, and even then, they'll refuse to testify in court!"

"Hey, at least it didn't happen in the Katsuhara Projects...it might have been two days before you'd even gotten a call. At least this one's fresh." Makoto attempted a grin, which failed miserably under the scathing glare that Yassine sent his way.

"What's the good news then?"

"We've got a suspect in mind."

"We just went over this." Yassine grated out, a dark frown forming on her face as she glared hard at the other officer.

Makoto nodded as they exited the stairwell and pushed through the doors into the First Room of the Four Rooms nightclub. "I know, I know. But think about it; false identity, disappears from the hospital before we can question him, and a couple months later, the killings start. He has no documented parents or family; just Yasuo and Aiko. So it's not like we can go that route. Kid's like, an orphan or something."

Yassine stopped in her tracks, her mouth falling open, her eyes going wide. Makoto stared at her oddly, and was about to speak, when she said, "I've gotta go! I'll call you later." She fast-walked past him, and called out, "Akina!" Akina turned from the bouncer she was interviewing, and raised her eyebrows in a silent query. "Meet me at the train station in an hour. We're going to Maebashi."

Akina grinned and nodded, and then turned back to the bouncer to finish the interview. Yassine strode from the club and over to her car, which was parked on the curb outside. Hopping in the driver's seat, she started the car and then pulled out her cell phone. With shaking hands, she dialed information. When the operator answered, Yassine said, "I need the number for the Sacred Heart Orphanage in Maebashi."

"One moment please." Came the female operators soft, pleasant reply.

When she read the number off, Yassine committed it to memory and said, "Thanks." She terminated the call, and began driving away from the club, heading for the train station in Downtown Juuban. She dialed the number she'd been given, and waited breathlessly for the answer.

"Sacred Heart Orphanage, Sister Ikuko speaking."

Yassine let out her breath, and said, "My name is Detective Yassine Porphyres. I'm with the Tokyo Police Department, Precinct 81, homicide department. I have some questions about a child that may have stayed with you for a while when he was younger, and I was wondering if my partner and I could stop by this afternoon."

Sister Ikuko was quiet for several seconds, leaving Yassine once again holding her breath. Finally, she said, "Of course Detective. We'll make sure that someone is available to speak with you when you arrive."

"Thank you. I should be getting there around one." Yassine said, a smile on her face. If this lead panned out, it could be a huge break in the case.

"Alright...I'll make a note of it. Goodbye."

"Bye." Yassine pressed the 'end call' button on her phone, and slipped it in the pocket of her conservative suit jacket. A moment later, it started ringing. She sighed, and slipped it out of her pocket. Pressing the answer button, she placed it to her ear, and said, "Detective Porphyres."

"Hey sweety, it's me." It was Reiko. _Shit_. "Have you decided what you wanted for lunch?"

Yassine bit her lip, and looked at her watch. 10:45 AM. A one o'clock meeting in Maebashi, and a boss to talk to about possible developments. _Shit, shit, shit._ "Ummm...yeah, about that. I'm not going to be able to make it home." Home was now the word, as Reiko had decided that she was moving in over a week ago. Yassine had felt no desire to stop her from doing so. She'd been elated when Reiko had asked her about it; she knew she was falling in love with the girl. Even Yassine's mother had been excited for her. But at the same time, she was fearful that this relationship would end up like all the others had...as dead as the victim's on her caseload.

"Why not?" Reiko sounded a bit hurt. Yassine had missed dinner five nights running, and Reiko had been banking on a free lunch break to spend some time with her girlfriend.

"I have to go up north this afternoon, to talk to someone about the case...and I just got another one on top of it, a related case." She sucked a breath in through her teeth and waited for the tirade she was sure would come. Reiko was only twenty-two, and although she was wonderful, and loving, and sweet, patient was something she was not.

However, the arguments never materialized. Instead, she merely asked, "Will you be home for dinner?"

Yassine looked at her watch again, and then sighed deeply, holding the phone away from her face. A moment later, she said, "Yes, I will. I promise."

She could hear the growing smile in Reiko's voice when she repeated, "Promise?"

Yassine pinched the bridge of her nose as the pain in her head began to slowly expand, and said, "I promise."

"Okay then; dinner. I'll make you something special."

"I'll see you then, sweetheart."

"Okay...bye."

"Bye." Yassine ended the call, and banged her head gently on the headrest of her seat. This was why she didn't do the girlfriend thing. Of course, one's logical thoughts often had little sway with one's heart. Her musings were interrupted by the insistent ringing of her phone. "What?" she answered testily.

"I'm fine, thanks, how are you?"

"Akina...sorry. What's up?"

Akina chuckled, and said, "Not much...things are pretty much par for the course up here in North Juuban. No one saw anything. And there were at least five songs last night that featured gunshots prominently as part of the music." Akina's voice held a tone of patently false cheer as she delivered the unwelcome news. "So, why the train station? We finally going to that orphanage?"

"Give the woman a cookie." Yassine muttered glumly.

"Jeez, what crawled up your butt?" Akina asked.

Yassine made a disgusted face at the crude lingo, and said, "Do you have to talk like that? I'm not like those gross army guys you used to hang out with."

"Sure you are...so; Maebashi?"

"Yes, Maebashi."

"I'll see you on the bullet." Akina said brightly, before hanging up.

Yassine turned off her phone and dropped it on the passenger seat. As the pressure behind her right eye grew into a full-blown headache, Yassine reached into the glove compartment for her migraine medication. As she popped two of them, in the hopes of staving off what would surely be a debilitating, nauseating headache, she thought to herself, _It's going to be a long fucking day._

* * *

"I'm afraid I don't understand...of course not." Akihito sat behind his desk, phone to his ear. "I assure you that I had nothing to do with-" the line went dead, and Akihito pulled the handset slowly away from his ear. He stared at it for a moment, and then slammed it down hard on the hook. "FUCK!" He could feel the bile rising in his throat as he thought of implications of the call he'd just received from the Oyabun, but he choked it back down. He'd already known what his boss was going to say, but he'd hoped to persuade him that it was not his fault; Akihito knew otherwise...it was his fault. But this was no time to fall prey to self doubt. He had an important meeting; one which would be a good start in rectifying the mistake he'd made. A moment later, he heard a knock on the door of his spacious study. Taking a few seconds to compose himself, he said, "Come in." Takai entered the room. 

"You wanted to see me?" he asked, bowing deeply.

Akihito rubbed a hand over his face, and then said, "Sit down Takai." When his subordinate obeyed, Akihito said, "I need to know about Keona."

Takai's mouth worked silently for a moment. When he finally found his words, his tone was nervous, and his voice shaky. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't fuck with me Takai. Somebody just iced another one of Yamada Ichiro's crew over at the Four Rooms. Did you know that?" Akihito asked, his tone icy. "One of the bouncers dropped my name...said one of my boys was in there. Said he recognized him."

Takai swallowed nervously, and said, "He's crazy or something. Kiki's dead."

"How'd you do it Takai?" Takai was put off balance by the sudden shift from menacing to almost amiable.

"Excuse me?" Takai said faintly.

"How did you kill him? Your good friend, your old friend, the little brother of the woman you've had a fucking hard-on for since you were thirteen. How did you kill him?" Akihito enunciated the last sentence very carefully, and stood up, his hands resting on his desk.

"I shot him." Takai said. "I shot him in the head twice."

"I have a problem here Takai." Akihito turned away from Takai, looking out the great bay windows that gave him a view of the entire grounds behind the house. He reached up with one hand and slowly grasped a thin, silky chord, pulling it gently. The drapes began to close, and he said, "My problem is that there was no fucking funeral. That Aiko was never questioned by the police. You insult my intelligence by thinking for a second that you could fool me. I gave you the benefit of the doubt, thinking maybe this would all work out. I really didn't want to kill him any more than you did." He finished drawing the drapes closed and turned back to Takai. "I don't know where you sent him, but I know he's not dead. I could have left it if he would have had the good grace to simply disappear, and never show his face in my town again." Taking a deep breath, Akihito shouted, "And now he's come back to fuck everything up! He's still going on this fucking revenge kick, and it's fucking costing me! It's already cost me, you stupid fuck!"

Takai's eyes were wide, and he knew that he was fucked. "Takeda-sama, I-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Akihito shouted. He reached down into an open drawer in his desk, and his hand came back up holding a Walther P99.

Takai's heart lurched as he found himself staring down the barrel of a sleek, black and chrome handgun. He felt his resolve weakening, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Shinjuku! He's staying in Shinjuku, in the Hokio Discount Motel on 223rd street."

"Good to know." Akihito said evenly, before calmly squeezing the trigger. The sound of the pistol was thunderously loud inside the study, but there was no one home he needed to worry about. A moment later, five of his house guards came rushing into the room, pistols drawn. As one, they relaxed and holstered their weapons upon seeing Takai sitting dead in one of the guest chairs, his brains blown out of a baseball-sized wound in the back of his head.

Akihito put the pistol back in the drawer and said, "Make sure this is cleaned up before my daughter gets home from her friend's house." He walked around his desk and across the room, taking care not to step in any blood or gore. He hated having to kill one of his most ruthless soldiers, but it had been necessary. With his admission of Keona's whereabouts, he hadn't just admitted that he knew where he was. He'd admitted that he had disobeyed an order from his Captain; an offense punishable by death. As Akihito passed the guards, he said, "I'm going for a little drive. I need to be alone for a while."

* * *

I don't know what the fuck I'm still doing here. I just killed a man; again. I might as well just fess up to it. At least to myself. I'm a killer. A cold-blooded killer. I'm able to remain rational and calm when pulling the trigger. I can watch a man die and feel nothing more than if I'd stepped on an unwanted spider. As I watch Nabiki across the table from me, I don't understand why I feel like that. How can I feel such tenderness, such love, for this girl; yet feel nothing for the people that I've sent to an early grave. The only person I've ever felt guilt for killing was Yamada Kenshin, and that's only because his death lead to the death of my brother. I still don't feel bad for killing him. Only for his brother killing mine. As I think about that, my own words from last night come back to haunt me: _An eye for an eye motherfucker._

Kenshin and I had never had a problem with one another. He knew that I ran with a few high-ranking members of the 3 Serpents Gang, but he never talked shit about me. He never tried to stiff me when I sold my wholesale coke to him and his boys for making rock. I was almost friends with him. But one day one of his boys tried to stiff me on a deal, so I fucked him up. And it came down to a choice between loyalties to his gang, and being an honest man. I knew what he'd choose; so did he. I can't say that I wouldn't have done the same thing in his position.

We fought first, hand to hand. I whipped his ass. He came at me with a hard right hook right off the bat, and I managed to push the blow aside with my right hand, putting him off balance. I slid into Kenshin's defenses easily and got him in a tight headlock, choking him as hard as I could with my left arm. I then proceeded to alter his formerly good looks with a series of hard right hands to his completely unprotected face. All the while, I was trying to keep from giving in to the pain of him flailing away at my kidneys with both hands. I pissed blood for a week after that fight, and he looked like the fucking Hunchback of Notre Dame. Still, I won. After probably nine or ten good shots to the mug, he stopped punching. I dropped him, and he started trying to slowly get up. I gave him a few good kicks in the stomach and ribs, and one last kick in the mouth for good measure. I left him bleeding there in the snow, freezing and in pain on a cold February night.

That was when everything came crashing down on me. He came after me again when he got out of the hospital and could move properly; only with friends this time. I knew that he wouldn't be able to let it rest. If he had, he'd have been a bitch; no one in his gang would have respected him. I tried to fight back, and even managed to send a couple of them to the emergency room with me. But in the end, I was outnumbered. In short, _I_ got _my_ ass whipped for once. It resulted in four broken ribs, a broken wrist, broken nose, and a severe concussion. I have five ceramic teeth because of that shit. Had we been in just about any other neighborhood in Tokyo, I could have let it pass and learned my lesson, the way Kenshin _should_ have learned his the first time around. But we weren't in any other 'hood. We were in the NJ. I had to respond, and respond I did; with a .45 caliber pistol.

He laid low for a month or two, but I found his ass in early summer. I found him standing on a corner outside an arcade, one of his favorite spots to sling crack from. I approached him as if I was going to just start talking. He must have known what was really coming; how could he not have? It _is_ the NJ after all. It didn't matter though. He wasn't fast enough. He reached towards the front waistband of his pants, and I reached for the back of mine. Despite his weapon being in easier reach, I was still faster.

He managed to get a shot off, but it missed badly, a result of my first shot hitting him in his shooting arm. I continued to fire, emptying my entire clip, until I was satisfied that Yamada Kenshin would never take action against me again. I loaded a fresh clip, and I made sure that he was as dead as true Bushido. I finished him off for sure with single a shot to his face. I didn't want to have to deal with him if he survived the torso shots and made it out of the hospital alive. I guess his brother is starting to feel the same way about me. He should have stopped the car and made sure I was done. But he didn't.

Now, I find myself in a situation that I'd never prepared for; I'm in love. I love this girl with all of my heart, with all of my soul. As I try to smile back at the radiant smile she sends me across the breakfast table, I know that I would die for her if needs be. I would give everything I had to see her safe. So why can't I tell her about it? Why can't I look her in the eye, even when we're alone, and tell her that I love her? Because it would endanger her, that's why. I know how shit is. The homeboy's never loved me, aside from Sato and a few of my other real close boy's. I know that shit. They loved the power that I represented; they'd take everything from me in a fuckin' second if I gave them the opportunity, including my girl. So I never say shit about it. I fuck her; stick my dick in her and let her think whatever the fuck she wants to. But as long as no one knows how I feel (especially her), she ain't my weakness. She stays someone else's weakness. Someone else's problem. Like her father. No one's ever going to come after him or his with a gat because of what he is. He ain't a piece of shit like I am.

When the fake smile fails, I'm surprised to note that her's doesn't falter. Nabiki is supposed to be as emotionally tough as I am. She's supposed to be able to hide it as well as I am. But she's still just a woman. She smiles at me, her feelings as obvious to me as they should be to anyone. But fuck it; I'm a dead man. I don't need to drag her into the same shit. She can feel for me at my funeral. Then it'll be safe for her to show all the love she wants. She can say whatever she wants, and it won't matter anymore. She'll be safe from my enemies, because I'll be in my grave. Once I'm dead, they won't give a shit about the people I loved. They'll forget all about them. If I can keep her a secret until I'm dead and gone, then shit's cool. But first, Takeda. I take a bite of pickled carrot with some rice, and the delicious flavor barely registers with me. Kasumi is a wonderful cook, but even her divine food takes a backseat to the mob.

I know that Takeda will be gunning for me. At the same time, I know that Takai won't betray us, no matter what. He's committed to me now, and I know that he'll stay the course. If he admits that I'm alive, he's as good as dead. If nothing else, that should keep him from saying shit.

"What's on your mind Kiki-baby?" Nabiki asks, pulling me away from my thoughts.

"Nothing. I'm just a little tired, that's all."

"Uh huh." She slurps down the last of her miso soup and then sets the bowl down. "So how did it go last night?"

"Oh that shit? It was fine." I say, waving my hand dismissively.

"Nice young men don't use such language Keona." Kasumi interrupted, almost politely. How anyone can interrupt someone politely, I don't know, but she manages it. "More rice?"

"Thanks Kasumi, but I'm full. I couldn't eat another bite." I reply, patting my stomach. That's not really true. I drank too much whiskey last night, and I know that if I eat too much more, I'll hurl. Different people have different hangovers. Some people don't get upset stomachs with them. Some people can eat to cure their hangover stomach aches. Me? If I eat too much, I'll get sick. So I finish the small serving I took, and push my plate away. "I'm going to take a bath." I say. I stand up and leave the table, heading up the stairs. I stop by Nabiki's room to grab a clean set of clothes, and then head to the furo. I wash quickly, rinse myself off, and then get in the furo, sinking slowly into the steaming hot water.

I don't know when I fell asleep, but I'm suddenly brought back to wakefulness by something brushing against me in the water. My eyes snap open, and I grab whatever the mystery thing. I hear a little gasp, and I blink the sleep out of my eyes. "Oh shit baby, I'm sorry."

"You better be." Nabiki says, her eyes narrowed. She's rubbing her wrist absently, and I realize that I probably gripped a little harder than I should have. "So...what did you do in Shibuya last night?" She asked.

I lean my head back against the edge of the furo and say, "Business."

"That's not much of an answer." She replies.

Who the fuck cares? It doesn't affect you right now, so stop fucking asking. You ain't meant to know this shit. That's what I want to say. But I control myself. "It's the only answer you're gonna get." is what I say instead.

Her entire countenance suddenly turns frosty, and I'm sure I feel the water cool by a few degrees. Her tone is positively icy when she says, "How bad was it then? You can't tell me what you were doing? Were you selling crack Keona? Is that what you were doing? Because I don't know where you got it from since you've been here."

Nabiki is used to intimidating people. Shit, even Ranma lies down for her, and I've never seen _anyone_ with the kind of power he has. He could destroy an entire mob family, my sorry ass included, with a couple well-placed ki blasts. The motherfucker is like something out of Street Fighter, only better. Him and all his crazy friends. And yet he fears Nabiki; like everyone else. But not me. The only thing I fear is death; not my own, but the deaths of those I love. And that's why I have to protect her, and keep her from knowing anything. I turn to look at her, making sure that my eyes convey as much hot intensity as I can bring to the surface without scaring her. "Don't ever ask me about my business again, do you understand me?" I try to keep it in the eyes, but I know I've failed when her firm resolve begins to crumble. She looks scared; I hate that.

Still, despite her obvious fear, she manages to raise her chin just a fraction and grate out, "Don't try to frighten me. I've seen worse than you."

The anger surges to the surface. I'm fighting a losing battle to contain it, and I know that in seconds I'm going to fucking lose it and smack the bitch. I can't stop what comes out of my mouth next, anymore than you could stop a freight train with a telephone booth. "You don't know a fucking thing about me!" I snarl at her forcefully.

She jerks hard, as if physically struck, and whispers in a quavering voice, "How dare you?" Backing away slowly, and getting out of the tub, she repeats louder, "How dare you!" It's not a question anymore, but a battlecry. She nearly bursts into tears, but she chokes them back, forcing them down under her Ice Queen facade. "Finish your bath Keona. Then get your belongings and get out of my home."

"This ain't your home." I say spitefully. I don't know why I'm saying what I'm saying, but I can't seem to keep my mouth from running. It's moving far faster than my brain can process the information that's being taken in.

"Why are you hurting me like this?" She goes back to whispering, her face twisted with grief for but a moment, before she goes quickly back to the Ice Queen of Furinkan High. "You know what? Fuck you Keona. Naomi was right about you. You're a fucking piece of shit. I don't want you here, and as soon as I tell my daddy that, you'll be on your ass so fast you won't have time to put on your pants." Then she storms out, trying to maintain her composure. As soon as the door to the furo closes, I hear a heart-wrenching sob escape her, just before she leaves the changing room and closes that door as well. There's one more door she's closed on me, of that I'm sure. It's the door to her heart. Fucking good. At least now I don't have to worry about her getting really hurt. She'll probably hate me for a while. Then I'll be gone for good, and I won't be there to hate. Maybe she'll remember me fondly, maybe she won't...maybe she won't remember me at all. At least she'll be alive, and she won't have to go to my funeral.

* * *

"Detective Porphyres, Detective Ishikawa. I'm Sister Maria. How can I help you?" The nun they were speaking to was a woman who was perhaps in her late forties or early fifties. Her face was filled with small smile lines, and she projected an aura of warmth and kindness about her. Her features suggested South Pacific Native ancestry, and her soft, soothing voice equally suggested warm sunny skies and ocean waves crashing in the distance. 

Yassine took an instant liking to her and smiled warmly at her. "Thank you for seeing us on such short notice. I know a call from our department can't be a welcome one."

Sister Maria smiled sadly, and said, "I just hope that one of our own didn't go astray."

Yassine and Akina shared an uncomfortable look, and Yassine almost crossed herself before she said, "Detective Ishikawa and I are working on a pair of murders in Northside Juuban, and we have a lead that connects a possible suspect to your orphanage."

Sister Maria almost sighed deeply, and said, "What's the name? And the family? I can give you people to talk to if you need it."

"Actually," Akina interjected, "we only have a given name. There's no last name, and no adoption records."

Sister Maria almost stopped breathing, and her lovely, matronly face almost drained of all it's deep tan color. "Keona?" She whispered breathily.

Yassine nodded, and said gently, "That's it. That's the name."

"Oh no." Maria shook her head and grasped her crucifix. She said a short prayer, whispered under her breath, so soft that even Yassine and Akina couldn't hear it. But Yassine felt it. She had been raised in a deeply religious, deeply Christian family, and she recognized when someone was in true communion with God. When Sister Maria finally opened her eyes and focused on the two of them again, she said, "Keona came to us almost twenty-one years ago. He was an infant, barely three weeks old."

Yassine pulled a small tape recorder out of her purse, and asked, "Is it alright if I tape this?"

"Of course." Maria said softly. She waited until Yassine had hit the record button before continuing on. "His mother was a former charge of ours. She gave birth when she was fifteen years old. She didn't know who the father was. She'd been adopted by a fairly affluent family from Kyoto, and she went through her pregnancy and her childbirth in silence and secrecy. They forced her to give the child up, fearing the shame a bastard child would bring on the family name. They wouldn't even let her give him a name. When she brought him here with her father, she was in tears, but she begged us to tell him that we didn't know who her parents were."

Yassine felt horrible for the poor girl, and Akina looked positively ill. "That's awful." Akina said softly.

Maria simply continued on as if Akina had said nothing. "We did as she asked, although I know it was not her choice to do so." Looking down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap, Maria smiled, and said, "I named him you know? Keona was my fathers name." She took a deep breath and said, "Keona was told that he was dropped off at the gates, and abandoned. He...he grew angry at this. He was always angry once he was old enough to understand what that meant. He used to fight with the other boys in the schoolyard. He had a hard time here. He refused confession, and often refused to go to services. He used to say that God hated him." The words seemed to bring up painful emotions for the woman, and she choked off a small sob, disguising it as a short laugh. "He was such a sweet boy when you could get him in a vulnerable moment. So loving and kind-hearted, and decent. But he was as hard as steel on the outside, and that was what he chose to show other people.

"When he was ten years old, in July of 1992, we went on a field trip to the Juuban Historical Museum. He'd never been outside of Maebashi before, because he was always in some kind of trouble. He'd never even been allowed farther than the small park a couple miles from Sacred Heart." She smiled fondly at the memory, as she recounted the first stages of the trip. "He was so excited when he was told that he could go. You should have seen him. He was the most beautiful boy, and he had these incredible green eyes that would just light up in those rare happy moments of his." Maria shook her head slowly, and a tear trickled down her cheek. "I'm sorry..."

"What happened to him?" Yassine prompted gently.

"We arrived at the museum, and he was in the middle of the pack getting off the bus. As soon as his feet touched the sidewalk, he ran as fast as he could away from us. He was a very fast runner."

"And you couldn't catch him?" Akina asked softly. Her eyes were glistening, and she found herself empathizing with this woman as a mother. Although she'd probably never had children of her own, it was obvious that she deeply loved all of the children in her orphanage. Or at least this one.

"Oh no. Little Keona used to tell us that no one could catch him when he was running." She gave another little half-sob, half-laugh, and said, "He was right." She tried to smile at her guests, but failed miserably. "I just can't imagine what he had to go through if he did the things you think he did."

Yassine kept her gaze firm on the grieving woman, and said, "Might you have a picture of Keona? Preferably one that was taken close to the time of his disappearance."

"Oh my, yes...of course." Sister Maria said. She reached down to her desk and picked up a framed photograph that both detectives had noticed, but had not payed much attention to. "This is him, about three weeks before he ran." The picture showed a young Japanese boy standing on the playground outside the orphanage on a rainy autumn day. He was dressed in long brown pants, a yellow rain slicker and a blue baseball cap. His shoes were generic tennis shoes, black ones with untied laces. His face was slender, with high-cheeckbones and a lightly tanned complexion, and showed signs that it would one day be a very handsome face. His eyes were a stunning shade of emerald green that managed to pop out even in the old photograph. He was smiling shyly at the camera, not quite looking directly at it, but the smile didn't seem to reach his eyes.

"Um...can you tell us how old he was when he...left your orphanage?" Akina asked as she took the picture from her, trying to be as sensitive as possible.

The woman nodded her head, and tearfully replied, "He was ten years old."

Yassine and Akina exchanged another quick look, and then Yassine said to Sister Maria, "Thank you for your time Sister, and God bless. I hope we have better news for you the next time we call."

"Thank you child." Sister Maria said graciously, her tears already drying. Still, both policewomen could see the anguish on the middle-aged woman's face as she escorted them out of the orphanage, and down to the cab that they'd called. "Have a safe trip home. And God bless you."

* * *

And there it is. Hopefully it meets with everyone's approval. Either way, feel free to post a review. We authors always like reading those, you know? 


	11. Homecoming King

Well, here's the next chapter. Hopefully, I'll get a few more reviews (good for the muse) before the next one is up. I always like to know where I stand. If you spot anything that seems out of place, or something that you don't like, tell me why you don't like it. At the very least, it will help other readers with discerning tastes in literature avoid a story they might not like...or read one that they feel they would.However, I do feel compelled to let potential reviewers and advice givers know that any _creative_ advice ( i.e. about where I could possibly take the story, and how to write the characters) will be ignored. Unless by some freakish coincidence the suggestion happens to follow my exact outline for the story. Wow, that would be bizarre. Anyway, on with the story.

* * *

So I packed my shit, and I left. Didn't even say goodbye to anyone. Just put the few changes of clothes I had in my backpack and walked out the front door. Now, three hours later, I'm still sitting in fucking Nerima. I'm in the middle of the park, sitting on a bench, wondering what I'm going to do now. I called Sato, and he should be here soon, But Takai is who I really wanted to talk to. For some reason, the shithead isn't answering his cell phone or his home phone. That fucks things up. I don't know why, but I really need to talk to him. Unfortunately, that's not an option right now. He was right though, this bitch was too good for me. I know I'll never hear the end of it once I tell him about this shit, but I'll tell him anyway. Shit, it might give me an excuse to slap him around a little if he takes it too far. I sigh, and then shake my head and laugh a little.

My pistol is tucked safely into the back waistband of my pants, covered by the bottom of my white hoody, giving me the illusion of security. If there's one thing I've learned about this neighborhood, it's that it is just like North Juuban in one special respect; a total shitstorm can blow in out of nowhere at any given time. But the shit that happens here on a day-to-day basis blows even my weirdest dreams way out of the water. If not for the fact that everyone else was seeing the same shit, I'd think I was fucking nuts. Still, I suppose that if worse came to worse, having a gun is a whole lot better than tangling with one of these whacko martial artists hand to hand. I mean, ki blasts? Still, no one dies here. That's where the two places differ greatly. People die in North Juuban all the time. That's why I had to get away from Nabiki. She ain't meant for someone like me; not meant for that place, or that life. And that's all I'm meant for.

"Look at you, lookin' all sad n' shit. What the fuck's the matter with you? You got rid of the baggage, didn't you?" I turn and face Sato, only to shake my head and grimace. I should have just bit the bullet and called Aiko. I really don't need his shit right now.

"Man, shut the fuck up. Let's just get out of here." I mutter. I stand up and grab my backpack, and say, "You know, you was my second choice anyway."

"Oh _was _I?" he replies. "Who'd you have in mind? Your sister? Man, she'd rip you up one side and down the other homeboy. You know that. She's more like your fuckin' mama than your sister, you know that?"

"Actually, I was trying to get a hold of Takai." I snap at him. I'm feeling irritable as hell, and I ask, "Hey, you got a smoke?" A cigarette always helps calm my nerves.

Sato quirks his lips in a lop-sided frown, then shakes his head resignedly. "If it wasn't for your moochin' ass, I'd be a rich man."

"Fuck you homie, gimme a smoke." I reply, my lips curling into a small smile.

Sato pulls his pack from his pocket and hands me a cigarette. "Here...make it last, cause I ain't givin' you no more. You gonna have to go to the corner store and get your own after this."

"Whatever man. Where you parked?" I ask.

Sato laughs, and says, "Last one man, I'm tellin' you. This way though." He leads me out of the park and to his mother's car. Once I'm settled in the passenger seat, he asks, "So where we goin'? I think Northside is still a little too hot for you."

I shake my head, and say, "Did you pay my rent?"

Sato nods warily, and says, "Yeah...you gonna pay me back from that safe I grabbed for you, right?"

"You know I'm good for it." I mutter, lighting my smoke and taking a drag. "Take me to my place."

"Are you fuckin' crazy? Someone's gonna see you man!" Sato yells at me. He gets worked up a little too easily.

"I don't give a fuck." I say softly, and Sato has no response for that. The rest of the ride passes in tense silence, but he takes me to Northeast Juuban, to the Katsuhara Projects, and drops me off in front of my building.

As I get out of the car, he asks, "You sure about this shit?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. I'll call you tomorrow." I reply, my tone distant. He just nods his head and drives away after I've shut the door. He's pissed off, I know that; he's worried. At least he's loyal. I'm almost as close to him as I was to Yasuo. He's lived across the street from the Hotatsus his whole live, and I've known him for ten years now. As long as I've known Aiko and Takai. As long as I knew Yasuo; longer now.

I walk up the sidewalk, and a few of the homeboys nearby give me strange looks, as if they're seeing a ghost. One of them, a short, stocky 16 year old named Haku, trots up and says, "Shit, is that you Kiki?"

"What does it look like?" I ask, frowning.

He shakes his head, a little smile forming on his face. "Man, we all heard you was dead."

"Well I ain't." I grate out through grit teeth. I move past him, and he respects my obvious desire for privacy. These guys are 3 Serpents, although from a different set than Sato's. Still, they know who I am. I'm the undisputed king of Katsuhara. I may not amount to jack shit in a place like Nerima, but here I'm King shit. How long that'll last now that I'm alive again, I don't know. I'll just have to wait and see.

I go inside the building, and start up the stairs to my apartment. I'm at the landing on the third floor when I run into Mrs. Ito, carrying her groceries up to her apartment. "Mrs. Ito, let me help you with those."

She turns to me, smiling broadly upon recognition, and says, "Keona, it's been such a long time!" She exclaimed brightly, her age melting away for a moment. I think she's kind of adopted me. Her own grandson was killed in a shootout over a bad deal a few years ago. "How have you been?" She asks.

Good old Mrs. Ito; as uninformed as ever. "I've been good. I've just been away for a while."

"Ah, I see. And how is your girlfriend in Nerima?" She asks slyly. Sweet as she is, she's almost senile, but that's one thing she never forgets to ask me about; my love life.

I shrug my shoulders, and say, "It didn't work out."

Mrs. Ito's face melts into an expression of blatant pity, and she says, "I'm so sorry dear. True love is a hard thing to come by."

"It wasn't that big a deal." I say, downplaying the difficulty I'm having in reconciling myself with not being with Nabiki anymore, and then repeat, "Let me help you with those groceries." I can see that she's about to decline, but I pre-empt her, and say, "I insist."

She smiles, and says, "You're a good boy Keona. It's a wonder you can't find a wife." The last comment stings in a way it never has before, but I shrug it off and take her bags from her.

"How's your health been?" I ask as I follow her up to her apartment. It's not just a pleasantry. I really mean it when I ask her that. She's been very good to me, even if it's only because she can't see what I really am. Either that, or she doesn't want to.

"Oh, it's been good. The old ticker isn't what it used to be, but I'm fine. I can still get around." She says with a smile. We reach her door, and she unlocks it, taking the bags from me. "I can take it from here I think."

"Okay Mrs. Ito. You take care."

"You too Keona. You take care of yourself. You're a _good boy_." She repeats forcefully, as if trying to tell me something. Her timing is almost eerie, considering recent events.

"I'm a little tired. I think I'm gonna go take a nap." I say, my eyes going to my shoes.

"Sleep well then Keona." She says kindly. A couple seconds later, I hear her front door shut. I look up then, and turn around to open my door. I pull the key out of my pocket and turn it over a couple times, looking at it. After studying it for a few moments, I slip it into the doorknob and unlock the door.

The interior is pretty much as I left it, although the liquor cabinet is open from when Kai grabbed my whiskey. I step inside and shut the door behind me. I drop my backpack on the floor and walk back to my bedroom. I go into my room and turn on the light. Crossing to my bedside table, I open the little drawer, and am pleased to find my weed still sitting inside. It's dry as a bone, but that's fine. The THC is completely crystalized now, which it wasn't the last time I smoked it. I pull the sack out, along with my pipe and lighter, and load a big bowl. I spark it up and take a long hit, filling my lungs with smoke. I sit for almost a minute, holding it in, before blowing it out in a rush. The intense head-high hits me hard, a result of my lowered tolerance. I take another small hit, and then set the pipe aside. I'm already good and stoned, so there's no need to smoke more right now. After releasing the last hit, I walk into the living room and lock the doorknob, the deadbolt, and the chain. Once my place is secure (as secure as it ever gets in Katsuhara), I sit down in my lazy boy recliner and turn on the TV. Shit...nothing but public access. Sighing, I turn the TV back off and get up.

I'm about to get up and go to my room, when my cell phone rings. I pull it out and look at the number. It's not one I recognize, but the area code is Nerima's. "What the hell?" I mutter, before flipping it open. "Yeah?"

"Keona?" Fuck...Naomi. "It's Naomi."

"What do you want? And how'd you get my number?" I ask, my tone steely. I really don't want to talk to any of Nabiki's friends right now.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" She asks, completely ignoring my previous questions. "That girl is heartbroken right now, and all because of you! I told her you were no good, and this proves it! I mean, what were you thinking saying those things to her?" She's obviously upset with me, but I don't know what she thinks she's going to accomplish with this.

"Look, it ain't none of your fucking business." I reply, and though I know that I could just hang up and turn off my cell, for some reason I don't.

"I beg to differ. Nabiki is my friend and I hate to see her hurt, and you hurt her you dick." She snaps. "You fucked up. You as good as told her that you don't trust her." Naomi takes a deep breath, her voice calming a bit, and she says, "She never cries like that."

I hang my head, my chin touching my chest, and I mutter, "It's better for her this way." before hanging up and turning my phone off. I don't know why I just said that; it was pretty stupid even if it _is _the truth. I shake my head slowly, as if trying to dislodge the thoughts, and set my phone down on the table next to my chair. I stand up slowly and walk into the bedroom, my legs feeling leaden and heavy. I make sure the light is off, and then sit down on my bed. After undressing, I lie down and pull the covers up. In my head, I can hear Naomi's voice repeating, "You fucked up." over and over and over. It follows me into my dreams.

* * *

Naomi looked over at Nabiki, who was still crying softly in the middle of her bed. Naomi moved over to her, and sat down next to her. She wrapped her arms around her and said, "I'm sorry he was such an asshole Nabiki."

Nabiki buried her face in Naomi's shoulder, and asked, "What's wrong with me?" in a liquidy voice.

"Oh, sweety, nothing's wrong with you. He's just a stupid, pigheaded, inconsiderate shithead. All men are assholes Nabiki." It truly was painful for Naomi to see Nabiki like this. Nabiki had always had boyfriends in the past, but only on her terms. She was always completely in control, and never really felt anything for them. It was more about the size of their wallets than anything else. But this time, she'd well and truly fallen for the guy. And she'd gotten burned.

"I just don't get it. I was just worried about him." Nabiki said weakly, her throat constricting as she tried to talk. "I know he was lying when he said he was going to Shibuya. What did he have to do in Shibuya?"

Naomi sighed, and said, "I don't know. Maybe he really was going to Shibuya."

Nabiki raised her face, her eyes red and puffy from crying, and said, "Do you really think that anyone can lie to me? I know when someone's lying. I can read people like books. It's what I do."

"You're right...I know." Naomi really couldn't fault her best friend's logic. She'd never met anybody who could lie to Nabiki, no matter what anyone might think. "What do you think he was doing then?" she asked.

"I don't know. And he wouldn't tell me. He got so...so...I don't know. He scared the hell out of me!" Nabiki almost dissolved into tears again, but she managed to hold herself firm. "But I'm going to find out." She wiped her eyes and stood up, her face quickly changing into a mask of analytical detachment. "What did he say to you?"

Naomi tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling, as if imploring the Kami to help her. Then she looked at Nabiki, and said, "He told me it was none of my business. When I pressed him on it, he said it was better for you this way, and then he hung up on me."

Nabiki frowned thoughtfully, and Naomi could see that she was finally pulling herself back together. For now, at least. "We need to find out where he is." She said finally, in a manner that suggested it was non-negotiable.

Naomi raised her eyebrows. "And how exactly do you think you're going to accomplish that?"

"Aiko." Nabiki replied, the beginnings of a smile spreading across her tear-stained face.

* * *

Sato looked up and down the stairwell, and then glanced over at Kai. "Well?"

Kai rolled his eyes, and then knocked on Keona's door. The response was almost a minute in coming, but when it did come, it wasn't a verbal response. They both heard the distinctive _click-click_ of a pistol being cocked. Kai's eyes popped, and he pressed his face close to the door and said, "Man, it's us...Kai and Sato." They waited breathlessly for a few seconds, both of them edging to the side of the door.

Finally, they heard the sounds of the door being unlocked, and then the door swung open. A shirtless Keona peeked his head out, his hair mussed and tangled from sleep. "What the fuck? It's goddamn eleven at night."

"Hey man, we brought you something." Sato said. He held up two unopened bottles of Jim Beam bourbon whiskey.

Keona's eyebrows raised minutely, and then he shook his head and stepped aside. "Yeah, yeah, alright." As his two friends passed him by, Keona asked, "Ya'll down for a little puff?"

Kai grinned as he shut the door behind the three of them and re-locked it, saying, "Shit, you know me dawg. I'm always down."

Sato set the whiskey bottles on the small folding table outside the kitchen, pulled a couple packs of Peace cigarettes from his pocket and tossed them down next to the booze. He yawned loudly, and then said, "Why not? Ain't got shit else to do."

Keona nodded his head, and said, "I'll be back." He disappeared into his bedroom for about a minute, and returned holding his weed and a couple blunt wraps. He glanced over at the table, and said, "Those smokes mine too?"

Sato chuckled and nodded. "Coming home present."

Keona grabbed a pack off the table, and then sat down in his recliner. Kai and Sato each took a seat on the couch, and Sato pulled out his own pack of cigarettes. Keona opened his smokes, pulled one out, placed it in the corner of his mouth and lit it. He took a deep drag off the cigarette, and then went to work rolling a blunt. It took him less than two minutes to accomplish, and when he was done, he had a fat, tight roll. He handed the cigar-sized joint to Kai, and said, "Spark it up homie."

Kai was only too happy to comply, holding his lighter to the end of the blunt and drawing in. Once it was properly lit, he took a long hit, and then passed the blunt to Sato. "Here." he said in a choked voice, trying to keep his hit in.

Sato took the blunt from Kai and held it to his own lips, taking an even larger hit than Kai had. He nodded his head in approval, and passed it over to Keona. While Keona was taking his hit, Sato blew his out and lit up a smoke. "So, I been doin' some thinkin' Kiki."

Keona nodded slowly, and handed the blunt back over to Kai, thus completing the first rotation. "Yeah? 'Bout what?" He squeezed out, trying to lose as little smoke as possible.

"This whole situation, man. We only got two more motherfuckers to finish off, and we know at least one of em'll be at the champagne room in the Four Rooms in two nights. I say we don't worry about the other motherfucker-"

"Takahoshi Akira." Kai supplied helpfully.

Keona looked over at him slowly, having just taken a drag off his cigarette, and said, "How the fuck are you finding these fucking names out?" As he spoke, curls of bluish smoke rolled from his mouth and nose.

Kai merely grinned, and said, "Ancient Chinese secret." before taking a hit off the blunt.

"Whatever homeboy. As long as we get em' all, I'm cool." Said Sato, as the blunt was passed his way. He took a hit, and then said in a choked voice, "Anyway, I think we should just hit Ichiro this Saturday...worry about this Akira bitch later."

Keona shook his head, and said, "No. I want him to know that I'm coming for him. I want him scared first." Taking the blunt from Sato, he took a small hit, handed it to Kai, and muttered, "Ya'll finish it. I'm fuckin' blazed."

Sato snorted loudly, and said, "Shit homie...you done turned into a fuckin' lightweight on me. Have to get that tolerance back up to snuff."

"Whatever man. Let's just focus on the business at hand."

Kai tamped the blunt out in the ashtray, intending to save it for later, got up and walked to the table and returned moments later with a bottle of whiskey. He opened it and took several swigs, making a slight face at the burning sensation coursing down his esophagus, before saying in a mildly hoarse voice, "I got the tip-off on Akira from a cousin of mine that's Red Oni. Apparently, all's not well in Oni-ville." Kai said with a chuckle. "Any way, this Akira cat's real tight with Ichiro, but he's a little loose-lipped. He was going around after the drive-by, talkin' all sorts of shit about you and Yasuo, sayin' he popped your brother right in the dome."

Keona settled back into his chair, his face peaceful and calm, belying the emotions that must have been roiling beneath the surface. Kai silently envied him his ability to keep his composure when told such news.

Keona took the proffered whiskey bottle when it came his way, and drained nearly a quarter of it. When he put it down, he smiled thinly, and said, "Where's he chill at?"

Kai ran a hand through his thick black hair, and said, "Mostly around his 'hood. He stays away from 3 Serpent's territory, and I know he don't come to Katsuhara."

Keona shrugged nonchalantly, took another swig and then passed the nearly empty bottle to Kai. "Projects is a hard place." He said, the combined buzzes from the weed and alcohol creating a thin haze in his mind.

Kai nodded his head, and Sato said, "Well if he ain't comin' out of Oni territory, that'll make it hard to get to him."

Kai gave a short reply, before hitting the bottle again. "Drive-by."

Keona shook his head, and said, "Nah man, too much risk of collateral damage. I don't wanna accidentally kill no kids or nothing." The bottle came his way again, and he grabbed it up, taking a quick drink. "I'll just call Takai and have him go with me. We did that first motherfucker proper, we'll do this bitch the same way."

The two gangbangers sitting on his couch both nodded their heads in agreement, and Sato said, "Just make sure you let us in on the shit with Ichiro. You'll need a little extra backup goin' after him."

Keona rubbed a hand over his face, and muttered, "Yeah." He was about to lift the Jim Beam to his mouth for another swallow of the fiery amber liquor, when there was a knock at his door. He exchanged quick glances with his two friends, and knew they were feeling the same tension he was. Almost as one, the three of them reached for their guns. Sato and Kai stood up and aimed their pistols at the door while Keona slowly crossed the room, his own pistol at the ready. He slowly and carefully unlocked each lock on his door, trying to be as quiet about it as possible. He gave a short nod to his companions, before ripping the door open and bringing his pistol to bear on the unexpected "company".

* * *

"I really don't know Nabiki. I haven't heard from him today." Aiko said, most unhelpfully.

Nabiki fought off what would have been an uncharacteristic display of frustration, just barely managing to maintain her composure. "Do you have any idea where he might have gone?" He definitely wasn't in Nerima, of that she was certain. She'd been unable to reach Aiko earlier in the day, and so had sent Ranma out looking for Keona in the hopes that he hadn't gotten far. Ranma had reported no Kiki sightings upon his return, although he'd been quite female at the time, and covered in glittery pink feathers from head to toe. Nabiki would have taken a picture (for posterity's sake) but for the fierce scowl on Ranma-chan's terminally cute face. Finally though, she'd gotten a call back from Aiko, at quarter after ten at night.

Aiko was silent for a moment at Nabiki's question, and then said in a frighteningly soft voice. "I bet I know who does."

"Sato?" Nabiki guessed, thinking it couldn't be that much of a stretch.

"Exactly." Nabiki heard Aiko sigh deeply, and then mutter, "Dammit Kiki." There was some rustling around, and Nabiki heard the tell-tale sounds of someone rifling through a pile of papers. Finally, Aiko found the number and read it off to Nabiki.

Nabiki dialed the number into her cell phone and said, "Thanks Aiko. I appreciate it."

"Thank you, for looking out for him. He needs someone like you." Aiko said back, her tone completely sincere.

Nabiki had a difficult time speaking around the lump in her throat, but she managed anyway. "Thanks Aiko. I'll let you know when I get a hold of him."

"Thanks. Bye."

"Bye." Nabiki pressed the end call button on her cordless phone that went to her personal line and looked over at Naomi. "Well, she doesn't know where he is, but she thinks that his friend Sato might."

"Who's Sato?"

Nabiki shook her dismissively, and said, "Trust me; you don't like Kiki, you'll absolutely _hate_ Sato."

"Whatever." Naomi replied nonchalantly. "So, like, do you have his number?"

Nabiki nodded her head, and began dialing the number. "Yeah. Aiko gave it to me."

The phone was answered after almost eight rings, and a cheery female voice greeted her. "Haruta residence, Mihoshi speaking."

"Hi, I'm looking for Sato." Nabiki said.

"Oh, he's hanging out with a friend of his."

"Do you have any idea where?" Nabiki said. She had a feeling she knew exactly which friend he was hanging out with.

"Umm...I think I heard him and Kai talking about Katushara, or something like that."

Nabiki wanted to bash her head into the wall, but refrained from doing so. "Thank you very much." she said graciously, before ending the call. She turned to Naomi, her face set in a mask of grim determination. "Naomi," she said, "we're going to the projects."

"What?" Naomi screeched, her face betraying her incredulity. "Not a chance in hell!"

* * *

"Why did I let you talk me into this?" Naomi pleaded with Nabiki as she parked her car in a visitor's spot outside Building C in the Katsuhara Projects.

"Because I'm your best friend in the world, and you know that I'd do it for you." Nabiki answered.

Naomi raised an eyebrow as she turned her car off and began getting out. "That presumes that I would date a guy who actually lived here."

"How about because I lent you the 10,000 yen you needed to pay the last of your increased car insurance premium after that little 'fender-bender' last fall?" Nabiki asked tartly as she got out of the car and shut the door.

"Works for me." Naomi said. Both girls stood there by the car for a moment, both of them feeling awkward and out of place. That awkward feeling turned to outright fear shortly after they left the relative safety of the well-lit parking lot and stepped onto the path to the building, complete with burnt out lights creating strange shadows that seemed to follow them up the walkway. A group of young men in purple sweatshirts, bandannas and baseball caps stood near the entrance of the building, and both Nabiki and Naomi could feel all eyes turning towards them as they approached. "Don't make eye contact." Naomi muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

Suddenly, almost as if they were one entity, the group of young men began moving towards them. One of them, a tall, lanky young man, who would have been handsome if not for the puckered purple scar on his left cheek, said, "You girls look like you're lost. Ya'll should get on where you came from."

Nabiki pulled herself up to her full five feet, three inch height, and said, "I'm looking for my boyfriend. Keona? Have you seen him around by chance?"

Nabiki was pleasantly surprised to find that the demeanor of the whole gang changed instantly. Scarface, as Nabiki decided to call him, smiled in friendly way, and said, "Kiki's your boyfriend?" Nabiki nodded her head. "No shit huh? Yeah, he's up there."

"He's never actually brought me here before...could you tell me which apartment he's in?" Nabiki batted her eyes at the guy for good measure, figuring he'd melt like every other guy did. He didn't though. He just cocked his head to the side, as if sizing her up, and then slowly nodded.

Normally, he was more cautious, but this girl was way too soft to be a real threat to his boy. Besides, he could see why Kiki wouldn't want to bring a girl like that to a place like this. She looked like a classy girl. Not the kind one usually saw around the projects. He said, "Fourth floor, apartment C42." He stepped aside, and the rest of the gang followed suit.

Walking past the purple-clad gangsters, Nabiki said, "Thanks boys. Ciao."

Naomi followed her inside, and when they'd finally passed the threshold, she turned to Nabiki and said, "Kami, did you see that? They really didn't want us here at all. I figured they'd at least hit on us or something."

"At least Kiki's name seems to have some weight around here. That made them back off pretty quick." Nabiki had been a bit surprised to find out that the mere mention of Keona's name could provoke such a sudden and drastic about-face from the Katsuhara gangsters. _He must be a cut above the common thug then._ She and Naomi walked cautiously up the stairs, and she was shocked to see three people sitting huddled together on the second floor landing, smoking what was very obviously a crack pipe. _This place is no joke._ She thought to herself. The place reeked of vomit, stale alcohol, urine, and some other unidentifiable chemical scent that stung the insides of her nose. There was another layer added to the stench at each successive level.

When they finally arrived at the fourth floor, Nabiki was pleased to see that they wouldn't have to go any farther down the dimly lit hallway. Apartment C42 was right at the top of the stairs. She took a deep breath, and then raised her hand and knocked. After almost fifteen seconds, she was about to knock again when she thought she heard a click. Naomi was on the verge of sighing with relief, and Nabiki wasn't far behind, when the door suddenly swung open, and they found themselves staring down the barrel of a gun. Naomi shrieked from fright and scrambled to the side, and Nabiki could feel her eyes widening exponentially. She was sure she felt her bladder weakening as well, but luckily for her dignity, the gun was quickly out of her face.

"What the fuck?" Keona uttered, sounding more surprised than upset.

Nabiki was about to reply, when he grabbed her and yanked her inside the apartment. He did likewise with Naomi, and then took a long look down the hall, and down the stairs. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he shut the door behind him and re-locked it. Turning to the two girls, he asked, "What are you two doing here?"

Nabiki took note of the other two gun-toting young men in the room. She very aware of the fact that none of the three had put their guns away. She looked at Keona's pistol meaningfully, and said, "Do you mind? It's going to be hard to talk with that thing where I can see it."

Sato and Kai both tucked their pistols away, and Keona did likewise. Kai licked his lips quickly, then looked down at the nearly empty bottle of booze and the half-smoked blunt in the ashtray. Looking back up at the girls, he said, "Well, me and Sato was just about to take off. Wasn't we?"

"Yeah, right." Sato said. He pulled the cigarette from the corner of his mouth, and put it out. "Later days homie." Sato said as he walked past Keona, doing their handshake. Kai repeated the gesture and nodded his farewell to his friend. Sato unlocked the door and the two of them left.

Keona locked the door behind his departing friends and said, "You can sit down if you want." His voice was distant, quiet, and he didn't maintain eye contact for long. He went into the kitchen, and she heard the sound of running water. He came back with a glass of water and sat down in his lazyboy.

Naomi sat down on the couch, but Nabiki remained standing. "Can I talk to you in private?" She asked Keona.

He nodded slowly and stood up, placing his glass on the small table next to his chair. He led her wordlessly down the short hallway to the unit's single bedroom. Flipping on the light switch, he went over and sat wordlessly on the bed. Nabiki could see him withdrawing, and decided she needed to act fast. She shut the door, and then sat down next to him and took one of his hands. He still didn't say anything, but she was heartened to feel him entwining his fingers with hers, holding her hand tightly. He rested his forehead in the palm of his other hand and closed his eyes.

Nabiki took a deep breath, and said, "What did you mean when you told Naomi that it would be better for me this way?"

He turned his head to regard her through lidded eyes, and said, "I just ain't good for you."

"Don't you think that I should be the judge of that?" She asked.

Keona sat up a little straighter at that, and said, "You really have no idea what I am, do you?"

"Why don't you tell me Kiki? What are you?" He tried to pull his hand away, but Nabiki held on, firmly but gently.

Giving up on extricating his hand from Nabiki's, he said, "Look, there's just some shit going down right now that ain't safe. I don't want you getting involved, accidentally or otherwise."

Nabiki reached out with her free hand and turned his head to face her fully. Leaving her hand on his cheek, she fought down the butterflies in her stomach and said, "Keona, I'm already involved, whether you want me to be or not. I don't know what happened in the furo, but I know that it wasn't me you were angry with."

Keona turned his head away and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. He gave a little shake of his head, and then looked her in the eye again. "I don't wanna see you hurt."

Nabiki's heart began pounding in her chest, and she replied, "I don't want to see _you _hurt. Kiki, I don't know what's going on, but I'm worried about you. I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you." She looked down at their still intertwined hands, and said softly, tentatively, "I love you." She looked back up at Keona, and almost laughed at the expression on his face. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "Keona?" she said plaintively, hating how vulnerable she suddenly sounded; and felt.

She waited apprehensively while he sighed deeply, and then hung his head low. She could feel her stomach clenching into knots as he remained silent and still for almost a minute. She could feel her face flushing, and was about to stand up and leave while she still had some dignity left, when she heard him whisper something that was almost inaudible. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she whispered, "What was that?"

He sighed again, and still didn't look up. But this time, she could clearly hear the words that he spoke. "I love you too."


	12. The Phone Call

Thanks to everyone for reading this far! While I don't have a huge amount of reviews, the ones I've gotten have been positive, so thanks for that as well. The story is starting to come together for me, and I hope it is for ya'll as well. Not too much further to go! Just a few more chapters, and it'll be finished. I don't have any kind of reliable timeline, but I'll try to crank them out a little faster than I have been lately. I realize that I've said that in the last couple chapters...haven't I? Ah, anyways, on with the story. Enjoy. Please post a review if you haven't already. It onlytakes a couple minutes out of your day, and I'd like to hear from some of the other people who are reading this story. Let me know where I stand folks!

* * *

5:46 in the morning...why the fuck is my cell phone ringing? It could be Aiko. She's called early before. I rub the sleep out of my eyes and pick up the phone. I check the number, and see that it's Takai. I flip my phone open quickly, so it don't wake Nabiki up. She's still sleeping soundly, snoring softly. "What the fuck are you calling so early for?" I ask quietly.

The voice that responds isn't Takai's though. "Kiki? It's Miko...have you seen Takai?" It's Takai's girlfriend.

"Takai? No, sorry. I been trying to raise him on his cell for a couple days now. Ain't heard from him yet. Why?" Something tells me I'm not gonna like the answer to that question.

Miko's voice is quavering ever so slightly, and I can tell she's on the verge of either a good long crying jag, or a verbal explosion. The girl's always been a little over-emotional, especially about Takai. "He ainn't been home since the day before yesterday, and he ain't called!" she says, her volume rising steadily. "I tried calling his cell phone, but he ain't answering it!"

I sit up in the bed and run a hand through my hair. I take a deep breath and say gently, "Slow down, okay?" She stops talking, but I can still hear the slight hitch in every breath she takes. "Now, are you sure he didn't stopped by when you were at work or something? Did you two have another fight?" Fuck, this is not what I should be doing at quarter to six in the morning; playing relationship counselor for a Yakuza thug and his stripper girlfriend.

"No, we haven't had a fight in a while." She says, sounding a little more together than she had thirty seconds ago. "And he ain't been here. I've had a stomach bug the last couple days and I've been at home the whole time. He went out to get me some peppermint tea and chicken broth, then he called to say he had to go to a quick meeting on the way home."

A meeting? What the fuck? My stomach is roiling, and I've got a sick feeling that I know who the meeting was with. "Did he say who with?" I ask, hoping she'll give me a name. If he didn't tell her, I'll know who he was going to see.

"No...I asked, but he said it was nothing important, and that he'd be home soon." Nothing important. That can only mean Takeda. Takai don't sling crack, smack, blow, weed, or anything else. He's a soldier, nothing more, nothing less, and he answers directly to Takeda. Something about it ain't right. He should have been home a long time ago.

"Alright, listen...I'll call around, see if I can turn anything up. Meantime, you just stay home, stay by the phone, and keep the door locked." I hang up without waiting for a response, and rub my eyes again. I doubt anybody would go after her. After all, she's just his girlfriend. I almost laugh at that, before glancing down at Nabiki. Going after the loved ones of those who have wronged you is a time-honored tradition in criminal organizations across the globe. It's a tradition almost as old as just killing the fucker who pissed you off in the first place. Still, if Takai ain't been around, then that means Miko's probably right to be worried about him. If he hasn't shown his ugly mug yet, then she's most likely safe; he's most likely dead.

My gut clenches tightly at the thought of it, but I know what the odds are. People don't just up and disappear for no reason. Especially when they're so closely tied to a certain city, or a certain neighborhood. And Takai is inextricably linked to the NJ through his ties to the Yakahito-Gumi. Still, I don't know for sure if he's really gone anywhere. He might just be drunk as hell somewhere, partying it up. He's done shit like that before, and it wouldn't surprise me if he's doing it again. Hell, he probably went to some party, got all fucked up and dropped his cell phone somewhere. Sometimes when that guy gets going, he forgets that he has places to be. He's one of the most irresponsible people I know. Then again, he wouldn't do that if Miko were sick. Despite their frequent verbal battles, he's always taken pretty good care of her.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and I get up slowly, trying not to disturb Nabiki. Shit, no worries there. The girl would sleep through a fucking bomb blast. She's the heaviest sleeper I've ever seen. I grab my boxers and slip them on, before walking out to the living room and taking a seat in my recliner. I grab my smokes and pull one out of the pack. Lighting it up, I take a deep drag, then flip my cell phone open. I dial Sato's cell, hoping he has it on. He usually does, in case of something like this. You never know when a good friend will turn up dead or missing here. God knows it happens often enough.

I count ten rings before I hear his groggy voice on the other end. "Kiki? What's goin' on man?"

"Miko just called. Takai's missing. You seen him?" I take another drag of my smoke, waiting for his reaction.

There's a momentary pause from Sato's end, and then he quietly says, "What do you mean, 'Takai's missing'?"

"What I just said motherfucker. Miko called and said he ain't been home for almost two days, and he ain't called neither."

"Well I ain't seen him. Where the fuck'd he go?" Sato demands, apparently fully awake now.

"Fuck if I know. He didn't tell her where he was going." I reply, keeping my tone calm. If I get all worked up, it's a sure bet that Sato will too. And Sato all worked up is not a good thing. "He just told her that he had a meeting to go to."

"Man, it's too early for this shit." He mutters, almost under his breath, a yawn in his voice.

"You're tellin' me? Shit man, I was sleeping when she called."

"Yeah, whatever man. Your girl still over there? Ya'll make up an' everything?"

"Yeah, shit's cool. She's in bed right now."

"You cool leavin' her there for a while?" He asks.

I take another drag of my smoke, and say, "Nah...not the way things are right now. I don't think it's safe."

Sato sighs, and says, "Okay. Tell you what...I'll do a little footwork today, see if anyone's seen him or heard from him." His voice conveys an almost oppressive feeling of doubt. He knows as well as I do what the reality of the situation probably is. And it ain't pleasant.

"Thanks man. Call me back later."

"Yeah. Peace." Sato hangs up, and I set my cell phone down. I finish my cigarette, and then go back into the bedroom. I take my boxers off and slip back under the covers. As soon as I'm settled on my back, Nabiki rolls over and drapes an arm possessively across my chest, her head nestling into the crook of my shoulder. She lazily kicks a leg across both of mine, and resumes her soft snoring. It's her third night staying here, and I'm starting to get a bit nervous about her hanging around too much longer. Things won't stay quiet in these parts for too much longer. Well, to be fair, it's never quiet in the Katsuhara Projects. But at least nobody's been murdered since she's been here. Hopefully she'll be safe at home before the next body turns up. And hopefully, it won't be mine. I've still got work to do.

* * *

Yassine stood on the small front porch outside of Hotatsu Aiko's home, her hand raised to knock on the door. She'd never met the woman before, but Makoto had given her the rundown. Apparently, she was a good young woman with a fairly affable personality, but she wasn't one to be intimidated. She looked over her shoulder at Akina, who rolled her eyes and held up the folder that contained the printouts of what Keona might look like as a young adult, as well as a couple photos of a young man who bore a striking resemblance to those printouts. In each photo, he was standing next to, or near, the late Hotatsu Yasuo. They had a further link, in that they'd proven through blood sample analysis that the Iwao kid who'd been shot with Yasuo was indeed the kid from the orphanage. Keona. All they had to do now was get Aiko to confirm it for them. Hopefully, she'd have some idea where to find him as well. Yassine turned back to the door and did what her girlfriend called a "cop knock". Three sharp, firm raps on the door. She heard a voice from within call, "Just a minute!"

Yassine shifted on her feet and stepped back from the door as she heard light footsteps approaching. The door swung open a moment later, revealing a slender, pretty young woman with soulful dark eyes. She wore a sharp-looking charcoal gray skirt suit with sleek, shiny black pumps. Her silky black hair was pulled into an artfully coiled braid behind her head, secured with a pair of black lacquered chopsticks. She smiled and said, "Can I help you?"

Yassine nodded her head, and said, "Hotatsu Aiko?"

The young woman's face turned suspicious, and she nodded her head. "Yes. Who are you?"

"My name is Detective Porphyres, and this is my partner, Detective Ishikawa. We're from the Tokyo Police Department, and we had a few questions we'd like to ask you." Yassine noticed that Aiko's eyes widened slightly, ever so briefly, at the mention of Akina's family name.

Aiko put her body firmly in the doorway, and said, "In regards to what?"

"We just need to talk to you about a young man we believe you may know." She tried to make the answer as vague as possible, hoping to deflect the young woman's suspicions long enough for them to get in the door. Laying all your cards out on the table before they even invited you in was always a bad idea. It severely decreased the chance that you were going to get what you wanted out of the people you were talking to.

"Come in then...but make it fast. I have to work today." Aiko stepped aside and waved the two policewomen into her home. She shut the door behind them and led them into the living room. She gestured for them to sit down on the couch, and then took a seat in her comfortable looking armchair. "What can I help you with officers?"

Yassine took a deep breath, and said, "We're with the homicide division." She got no further, as Aiko became quite flustered, and immediately interrupted her.

"If this is about Yasuo, I answered all your damn questions! So until you have someone to arrest, leave me alone!"

Aiko was on the verge of standing and leaving, when Akina said, "We're not here about your brother." Aiko froze, and her eyes narrowed.

"What do you want then?" Yassine was thankfully free of head pain at the moment, but now her stomach was aching, and on fire. If it wasn't migraines, it was heartburn. This girl's suspicion, while typical of Northside Juuban residents, wasn't helping any.

"We're here about a young man that we know was a close friend of your brothers. He was seen around here quite often, and we were wondering if you could answer a few questions about him." She held her hand out for the folder, and Akina handed it to her. Opening it up, she pulled out a cropped photograph of the young man she hoped was Keona, standing on a street corner smoking a cigarette. "Do you know this young man?"

Aiko knew there was no point in denying it. They knew about him already. At least, the gang cops did. "Yes. He was a good friend of Yasuo's. He stayed with us for a while."

"Why didn't he stay with his parents?" Akina asked, her tone neutral.

Aiko shrugged, but picked her words carefully. "He didn't really have anywhere to go at the time. His family didn't want him around. So I took him in for a bit."

Yassine nodded her head, and hoped she was right about this kid. "So, how long has it been since you've seen Keona?"

She nearly heaved a sigh of relief when Aiko didn't correct her on the name. Instead, she merely said, "It's been a couple months. Why?" That clinched it. At least now they knew who they were looking for.

"There was a shooting recently, in a mall parking garage in Downtown. Keona's blood was found at one of the crime scenes, along with several bullets that were fired from a gun that was used in another crime. A man was found dead in his car a couple days later, along with his weapon. The bullets that killed him matched those found at both the mall crime scene, as well as the other crime scene. Keona never turned up, although he's been spotted since." Yassine replied. "We're not saying he's a suspect at the moment, but he was definitely at one of the crime scenes, and was likely wounded. If we could speak to him, we might be able to get a clearer picture of what happened, as well as an idea of who we may be looking for."

Aiko shook her head, a little too quickly, and said, "I'm sorry, but I don't know where to find him."

Yassine and Akina exchanged a quick glance, and then Akina said, "We understand. Thank you for your time." Slipping a business card out of her inner suit coat pocket, she handed it to Aiko. "Our office number is on the card. If you have any contact with him, or you hear anything, please give us a call."

"Of course." replied Aiko. She set the card on the coffee table and stood to escort the two policewomen out of her home. When they reached the door, she opened it for them and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry I couldn't have been more helpful."

"It's no problem." Yassine said, before smiling back. "Have a good day." She turned and walked off the porch and down the concrete walkway to Akina's car. Once they were both settled inside, Yassine took her glasses off and tucked them into their protective case, before putting it in her purse, which was situated on the floor between her feet. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the headrest. Akina got in the car and started it up. As they pulled away from the curb, Yassine sighed deeply, and muttered, "She was lying."

Akina rolled her eyes, and said, "You don't know that."

"Yes I do. She was lying. She was nervous." Yassine replied testily.

"Most people get a little nervous when two homicide detectives show up on their front doorstep asking questions about someone they know."

"Most people...whatever. She was lying." Yassine shook her head, and sighed again. Pulling a small container of tums out of her purse, she popped a couple in her mouth and crunched them up noisily. After swallowing the chalky sludge that the indigestion tablets had turned into, she said, "Let's get some lunch."

Akina said, "Okay...French?"

Yassine raised an eyebrow and asked, "You paying?" To a restaurant, the French eateries in Tokyo were top-notch. That meant they were all very expensive as well. She'd been planning to take Reiko to the upcoming Cherry Blossom Festival, and had been saving her money for a new kimono. She'd never worn one, and they looked terribly uncomfortable, but Reiko had been so excited about the prospect of buying new kimonos together to wear to the festival. She just couldn't say no. So she had to say no to her rather demanding taste for fine foods instead.

Akina looked over at her friend and partner, and said, "Sure, why not. Those kimonos won't buy themselves, after all." Turning back to the road, she asked, "So you're still bringing Reiko by for dinner tomorrow night, right? After all, I've yet to meet her."

"We'll be there with bells on."

"Good. Now, where should we go for lunch?" Akina asked, focusing on the important task at hand.

"How about Burgundy?" Yassine replied. Burgundy was a restaurant that specialized in French cuisine from the region of the same name. The food was second to none, and atmosphere was quiet and relaxed. She needed that right now.

Akina smirked and said, "You're going to take me for every penny you can, aren't you?"

"Hey, I've got discriminating tastes."

Akina laughed and said, "That you do girlfriend. That you do. Burgundy it is."

* * *

"What the fuck are you askin' me 'bout that skinny mu'fucka for?" Eito cocked his head to the side and frowned at Sato.

Sato frowned right back, and said, "Watch your fuckin' tone of voice kid." Eito's frown deepened, and he looked straight into Sato's eyes, unblinking, trying to stare him down. Seconds later, he was looking away.

"What the fuck ever. Anyways, I seen him 'round this way a few days ago...maybe three or four. I can't remember." Eito shook his head, and his red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes fluttered briefly.

Sato grimaced, and said, "Boy, you need to lay off that green. You actin' stupid man. Tryin' to act all hard and shit. If Takai heard you talkin' about him like that, he'd fuck you up. And if you ever talk to me like that again, _I'll_ fuck you up." Sato gave the seventeen-year-old a hard swat on the side of the head, and said, "Gonna get yourself killed talkin' that shit."

"I ain't talkin' no shit...you know how it is cuz. Shit's just been real tight lately, you know? I'm stressin', know what I mean?" Eito said in a wheedling tone of voice.

"Shit cuz, we all stressin'. That don't make a good excuse for fuckin' stupidity. You need to watch what the fuck you're sayin'." Sato knew the kid was backtracking while trying to make it seem like he wasn't. Giving Sato an attitude wasn't the best of ideas, and this kid was fairly low on the 3 Serpents totem pole. Sato, of course, was one of the oldest, most respected members of the 16th Street set. At twenty-three years old, he'd outlasted almost everyone he grew up with. Most of them were dead, and the rest were in jail. The only member older was an O.G. who was almost thirty. Kai, or Wing, as his mother called him, had only just turned twenty-two. Keeping his gaze on the youngster in front of him, Sato said, "Look, if you see him, let me know. Keep an eye out, you hear?"

Eito nodded. "Yeah, I hear."

"Alright then. Peace." Sato turned away from the kid without waiting for a response. The last place he had to check was the Chinese restaurant that Takai was responsible for collecting protection money from. He started walking in that direction, hoping against hope that Takai had been by to collect recently. If not, something was wrong. It was the third day of August, and Takai collected on the first of every month.

It was a thirty minute walk, but Sato didn't mind. He enjoyed walking, enjoyed his time alone. He knew that it wasn't particularly safe, but it didn't matter. Sitting on his own front porch wasn't safe these days. When he finally entered the elegantly decorated Tai Shan restaurant, the pretty Japanese hostess smiled at him and asked, "Just one today, sir?"

"I need to speak to the owner." Sato replied, craning his neck to look past her, towards the kitchen. The owner did most of the cooking.

She glanced back towards the kitchen, and said, "Just a moment. I'll get him for you." She looked a bit distressed at this, as she knew him for what he was. Gangbangers were easy to spot. Sato had hung his purple rag from the right-hand side of his belt, in the front of his pants, so that it was obvious. It was funny how a simple piece of purple cloth, woven into a bandanna that most people outside the 'hood used as a snot rag, could inspire such fear in most residents of the NJ.

She came back several minutes later, with a short, roly-poly Chinese man in tow. Ignoring him, she looked to the paying customers behind him, and said, "Party of four?"

Sato's eyes met those of the Chinaman's, and he said, "Takai."

The man's eyes widened, and he said, "Please, come to my office." He turned and led Sato through the dining room, through the kitchens, past the sinks, to a small office in the back of the single story building. Sitting down, he said earnestly, "We have already paid. I have no money to give you."

Obviously, the purple rag meant nothing to this guy. He didn't recognize it. He knew that Sato was some kind of gangster, but it obviously wasn't clear to him as to whom Sato's allegiance belonged. Sato grinned lazily, and said, "Nah, that ain't it. I ain't Yakahito."

The owner of the restaurant said, "I don't understand. Why did you want to speak to me?"

"Takai." Was all Sato said.

The chubby little man said, "I haven't seen him! He hasn't been here!" He spoke emphatically, and his skin seemed to pale by the second. "Someone else has already collected!" He exclaimed.

That was all Sato needed to hear. "Thank you for your time." He said, almost sincerely, before standing up and walking out. He left quickly, and when he stepped out on the sidewalk outside Tai Shan, he sighed deeply and pulled out his cell phone. Dialing Keona's number, he waited until his old friend had picked up.

"What up?" Keona said.

"Yo, it's Sato."

"I know who the fuck it is. What up?"

Sato closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Somebody else been workin' Takai's collections."

Keona was silent for a moment, and then he said in a subdued tone of voice. "Yeah. I'll talk to you later." The line went dead, and Sato flipped his cell phone closed.

He looked up and down the street, and then muttered a quiet, "Motherfucker." Kai hadn't seen Takai either, at least not for a few days. He'd told Sato that he'd check around, help him out with the search. But if Takai wasn't collecting, that could mean but one of two things. Either he'd been promoted, or he was dead. And if he'd been promoted, then he'd already have called Kiki to celebrate.

* * *

Takai is gone. I know that. If he wasn't, then why was somebody else collecting on his spots? Nabiki's hand touches my arm, and she says, "Kiki-baby, are you okay?"

I nod my head, but don't say anything. I know that I probably look like I'm fixing to kill somebody, but there's nothing I can do about it. The only alternative is crying, and that ain't for her to see. That's private. I'll cry when she's back at home.

I take a bite of the rubbery scambled eggs that Nabiki cooked for a late breakfast, and frown deeply. She looks almost apprehensive at first, and then I see her face fall at my expression. Quickly, I smile, and say, "It's good baby." And despite the fact that I'm a better cook, they really are good. Just because she cooked them. Corny as fuck, I know, but I can almost taste the love that she put into them, despite the fact that she obviously ain't no cook. Still, they're edible. I finish my breakfast in silence, and when I've set my fork down, Nabiki repeats her earlier question. "Are you okay?"

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly and then say, "I got a call from Sato about a half-hour ago."

"Oh? What about?" She asks.

"Don't worry about it." I answer, my voice soft.

"Kiki, what's up?" She asks. She's too smart for me to bullshit. I guess I'm not such a good liar after all. I guess what Takeda always said really is true. "Never bullshit a bullshitter." That had been one of his favorite sayings, right up there with his "survival of the fittest" line.

I don't want to tell her what's going on. I don't want to burden her with my problems, especially the kind that I've got right now. I guess I could give her a heavily edited version, no matter how undesirable the mere thought of talking about any of it may seem. But I know that she'll just keep after me if I don't. I gotta throw her a bone to chew on for a while. Something to keep her mind occupied. I pick up the cup of creamy, sweetened coffee that Nabiki made, and I take a sip. Now coffee, she does well. After setting the cup down, I frown again. Meeting her curious, compassionate gaze, I say, "It's Takai."

"What about him?" she replies, a note of trepidation entering her voice.

I shake my head quickly from side to side, and it takes me a few moments to respond. I just manage to swallow past the growing lump in my throat, and then I look at her again. "He's dead."

She gasps softly, and then takes my left hand in her right. She sits down at the place directly adjacent mine, and scoots her chair closer. "Oh baby, I'm so sorry." She looks down at our joined hands, and then back up at my face. "How?"

I shrug. "I don't know."

"You don't know? Then how do you know he's dead? Wouldn't Sato have told you?" she asks, rather analytically.

I shake my head again, and say, "He ain't been around. His girl ain't seen him in a few days. No one else has either. Including the people he usually collects protection money from."

"So? Couldn't he have moved on to a different...job? I mean, can't you, you know...get promoted in that business?" she asks, making an obvious effort not to say the word Yakuza.

I bark out a short, harsh laugh, and ask, "Are you even listening to yourself?" I take a deep breath, and say, "He'd have told me if that happened. Someone got him. I know it. Sato knows it."

"How?" Her voice is soft, and she looks sad as she waits for my answer.

I shrug my shoulders and pull my hand from hers. I lean back in my seat, and say, "Someone else is making his collections runs."

"And you know that he's dead because of that?" she queries, her tone of voice betraying her skepticism. It don't matter what she thinks she knows. She don't know shit. If Takai had moved up in the hierarchy of the Yakahito-Gumi, he'd have called to tell me. There's no way he'd have just disappeared like this. And him leaving town is even less likely than him being promoted. No, he's dead. And I'm pretty sure I know why.

"Yes." I answer her tersely. I stand up and walk away from the table, heading for the bedroom. I can feel hot tears stinging my eyes, but I force myself not to release them. I'll do that later, when I'm alone. I hear Nabiki's soft footsteps behind me as I enter my bedroom. I sit down on my bed, and she sits down next to me.

She takes my hand again, and softly says, "I'm sorry Kiki-baby."

I nod my head slowly, and manage to choke out, "Yeah, me too." My voice comes out as a pitiful croak, and I have to stop breathing for a moment to keep myself from crying. It's my fault. Takai took a risk for me, and he paid with his life. Now I have another person to avenge. And another dead friend to bury, if his body is ever found.

* * *

Nabiki sat silently in the passenger seat of Naomi's car as they sped down the freeway towards Nerima prefecture. Keona had been visibly upset when she'd left, but he'd insisted that she go home for a while. He'd told her that he would call her soon, and that everything would be fine, but she knew better. The events of recent months were catching up to him quickly, and Nabiki knew, deep down in her gut, that things were far worse than he let on. She still didn't know exactly how _much_ worse, but she meant to find out, one way or another. She'd thought briefly - very briefly - about having one of her girls follow him to try and find out. Then she'd realized that not only would he probably see that as an unforgivable breach of trust were he to find out, but it would likely endanger the life of her "operative". Both of those outcomes were unacceptable.

Next, she'd thought about asking Ranma to do it. But that would be a mistake as well. His overblown sense of honor wouldn't allow him to just stand by and observe the kinds of things that were everyday occurrences in Northside Juuban. In all likelihood, he'd see someone getting robbed, try and play the hero like he always did, and end up shot. As powerful a martial artist as Ranma was, Nabiki doubted he was fast enough to dodge a bullet. She closed her eyes and sighed, wondering what she was going to do. "You okay over there?" Naomi's voice floated to her through her musings, and she opened her eyes and turned her head to regard her friend.

She nodded, and said, "Yeah, I'm just...I don't know. I don't know right now."

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you like this." Naomi said. If anyone was an authority on the real Nabiki, it was her. They'd been the best of friends since grade school, when Naomi had stuck up for a bullied and heart-broken Nabiki shortly after the death of her mother. "It's almost painful to watch."

Nabiki snorted in a most un-ladylike fashion, and said, "Yeah, well just imagine how it feels." She chuckled humorlessly, and said, "I'm in love with him. And I don't know why."

Naomi looked at her friend as they pulled off the freeway, and onto the exit for Nerima. "Who knows why. They always say that your heart makes it's own decisions. You can't choose who you love."

"But I wouldn't choose _not_ to...even if I could. Is that wrong?"

"I don't know Nabs. I really couldn't say. I don't think I've ever really been in love before. Listening to you, I don't know if I ever want to." She said the last bit with a smile, in a feeble attempt to take the sting out of the words. Still, it didn't appear to make her friend feel any better.

Nabiki desperately wanted to understand why her life was spinning so rapidly out of her control. She'd never felt more alive than when she was with Keona. At the same time, she'd never felt so powerless to affect a situation into which she was thrust. She'd always maintained absolute control of her life, right down to the minutest detail. That often included controlling those around her through manipulations and schemes of one kind or another. But Keona was different from anyone she'd ever met. He defied her at every turn; pulled away from her when anyone else would have been turning to someone for comfort, and he flew in the face of every value she'd been taught to cherish as her Samurai birthright. He was as bereft of honor as anyone she'd ever met, and even went so far as to scoff at what he thought was a foolish and childish idealism that had no place in his deadly urban subculture. To him, honor was merely a word bandied about by the powerful Yakuza elite to keep their clan members in check. "Honor by the Yen", he'd called it at first. After an unpleasantly malicious sounding chuckle, he'd said with a smirk on his face, "_Honor by the fuckin' finger. That's all it is."_

She'd understood that he was referring to the Yakuza practice of cutting off one of your own fingers if your "honor" was damaged through your own actions or words. Luckily, all ten of Keona's fingers were still attached to his hands, though she had no doubt that he knew at least a couple of men who were at least one digit short. And therein lay her problem. They were products of two completely opposite worlds, and as tolerant as she tried to be about his, she hated the position it put him in. He was secretive with her, which she hated. As much as it galled her to think so, it was likely for reasons she probably _didn't_ really want to know about, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise. What she wanted more than anything wasn't for him to tell her about all the terrible things that were going on in his life right now. What she wanted more than anything, was for him to be able to just walk away from it all. To be able to turn his back on the way he'd grown up and make peace with himself.

Turning to her friend, Nabiki said, "Naomi...what would you say if I told you I wanted to leave Japan?"

Naomi raised her eyebrow, and replied, "Nothing?" Cracking a smile, she then said, "Honestly, I always kind of pictured you in America, hanging out in Hollywood with all the big American stars and gorging yourself on the smorgasbord of junk food that they produce. Why?"

Nabiki took a deep breath, and then said, "I'm going to try to talk Kiki into leaving with me. I know I already got accepted at Tokyo U, but...I want to get Keona away from all of this." She looked down at her hands, which were clasped loosely in her lap, and then back up at her friend and unofficial chauffeur. "I'm so afraid of losing him. I'm afraid he's going to end up shot again, and that the next time he won't make it."

Naomi nodded absently, and muttered, "Well, the odds certainly wouldn't be in his favor, now would they?" Seeing the stricken look on her best friend's face, she rolled her eyes, and said, "I'm sorry Nabiki. I didn't mean that."

"Yes you did." Nabiki replied softly. "And you're right. They aren't."

They next six blocks passed in absolute silence. They were about to turn onto Nabiki's street, when Naomi asked, "So what are you going to do?"

Nabiki pursed her lips in thought, and then said, "I don't know just yet."

Pulling up to the curb outside the Tendo Dojo, Naomi said, "Nabs, you know I love you like a sister." Nabiki nodded, and Naomi continued on, saying, "I just want for you to be happy. And if Keona makes you happy, then more power to you. But don't get yourself caught up in something that you can't get yourself out of. No matter how good he may make you feel, he's a dangerous person, and the people he runs with are just as dangerous as he is. Hell, I'm scared to death of the guy. I thought he was going to shoot us when he opened his door the other night."

"He'd never hurt me." Nabiki said, sounding more sure of herself than she had at any other time during their conversation. "I know he'd never hurt me. Not on purpose."

"For your sake, I hope you're right."

"I am." Nabiki said with complete certainty. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. Keona was as emotionally damaged as anyone she'd ever met, and he had more bottled up anger and aggression than even her dear brother-in-law-to-be, which was saying something. The sheer grief that he carried with him outweighed even the grief that she still felt for her long-departed mother. Shaking her head to rid herself of unpleasant memories, Nabiki said, "Look, I've got to go in. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay." As Nabiki got out of her friend's car, Naomi said, "You be careful with him Nabiki."

"I will." was Nabiki's only response before she shut the car door and walked through the front gate of the Tendo compound. As she made her way up to the front door, she thought about the task she'd set before herself. She would get Keona out of NJ, and she would make him see that it was what was best for him. Just how she was going to do that, she wasn't quite sure. Still, she knew that it had to be done. Not just for him, but for her as well. She knew that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him; couldn't picture herself with anyone else. But that would never happen if she couldn't pull him away from his self-destructive lifestyle. If he stayed where he was now, he'd surely be dead long before she could even begin to realize her fledgling dreams. All she needed now was to find a reason for him to leave that he would accept. Telling him that he'd end up dead or in jail wasn't going to cut it. She was sure that he was well aware of that fact, and she was just as sure that it didn't bother him in the least. She needed something that he would respond to; something that he couldn't ignore, or deny, or argue his way out of. The problem was, she couldn't think of just what that would be. But she was determined to find out.


	13. The Home Visit

Reviews would be helpful, to those who are so inclined. Doesn't take long. I've done it myself a few times. Thanks for reading.

Yarashi Takeo sat on the stoop outside building C of the Katsuhara projects, staring at the nice black car that had just pulled into a parking spot nearby. He didn't recognize the car, and that made it all the better. Double Deuce could use a little extra notoriety, and that car becoming his would be just the thing to get it. Local street lore told that the founder of the Double Deuce 3 Serpents had been a member of the original 23rd Street set that the infamous Haruta Sato belonged to. His name had been Hanazaki Kuroshi, and he'd founded the Double Deuce set at the age of sixteen. It was common knowledge that his mother had moved them from the moderately more expensive area of the NJ that actually had real houses to the Katsuhara Projects, where they could be funded by the city's Section 8 public housing program.

There, in Building C, young Kuroshi had discovered an untapped wealth of potential crack heads, whores, and flat broke, angry young men like himself. Seeing great opportunity, the young criminal had immediately set himself to the task of establishing himself as King Bad Ass of the Katsuhara Projects. He'd done so quickly, mostly with his fists. But it was his trademark .22 caliber pistol with a ten round clip that had truly garnered him the respect and fear he so desired. Fifteen years ago, nobody in Katsuhara had guns. He'd brought his with him, and all the other young men of the projects had been awed by the fact that he'd somehow managed to acquire a firearm in Japan. From this weapon the Double Deuce had derived their name.

Kuroshi had flaunted the money he'd made from the burgeoning crack trade back in the blocks that surrounded his native 23rd street. He'd flaunted his gold watch, and his gold billfold, and his diamond earrings. And he'd flaunted his firepower, which back then had been more than anyone else had ever seen outside of nighttime television. The other disaffected boys of the Katsuhara projects had seen what he had to offer, and had taken the bait; hook, line and sinker. After a few requisite beatings, of course. Kuroshi had beaten in his first member at the age of sixteen, and the two of them had begun work on building the gang. Within two years, the set was almost 100 strong. Within five years, they'd reached the 200 mark. It had been around that time that Kuroshi had been murdered by a rival Red Oni set, gunned down in a drive-by while walking to the corner store to get some milk for his mother. He'd just turned twenty-two, and had left behind a two year old daughter.

Despite the violent end that Kuroshi had met, the gang lifestyle had spread like wildfire in the Katsuhara projects. Now, ten years after his murder, Katsuhara was the most dangerous area in Tokyo. Whether Kuroshi would be proud of this fact or not was irrelevant; Kuroshi was dead. All that mattered was that the set he breathed life into helped the gang he'd given his life to become the most powerful gang in Japan. 23rd Street and Double Deuce both had the same aspirations. And so as young Takeo watched the man in the pinstriped three-piece suit and sunglasses step out of the four-door Lincoln Town Car, he reached for his gun, waiting with great anticipation for the rich man to pass by his stoop and up towards his stairwell. A feral, predatory grin spread across his face as the man drew near. This was his lucky day. Never before had his prey been so brazen as to come into his lair. Always before, he'd had to seek them out. Now, like a trap-door spider, he waited calmly and patiently for his quarry to pass close. Then it would be payday. "Wake up rich man." Takeo whispered to himself with a sneer. "Here comes my welfare check. Motherfuckin' first of the month."

I sit watching television after having cached a nice fat bowl of weed. I have a pleasant buzz going on; my head feels like it's floating, and my body feels cemented to the ground all at the same time. I ran out of whiskey yesterday, but that don't bother me too much. As long as I got something to keep me in an altered state of mind, I'm good to go. I heave a put upon sigh and change the channel, bored with the vapid romantic intrigue of the ridiculous teen drama I've been watching for the last fifteen minutes. I don't know why I bother paying for cable. There's almost never anything good on. Anime, old Godzilla flicks, and some crazy-ass game shows. Every once in a while, you get a good gangster flick on. If it's Japanese, it's almost invariably Takeshi "Beat" Kitano. If it's American...hell, I don't know who half those actors are. But it's funny...most of em' are fake as shit. They cast us gangsters as the scourges of society. But that's all bullshit. That flick "Menace II Society" had it right. We ain't the scourge. Society is the scourge. The government, the police, the rich folk...everyone who just don't understand.

I didn't create all this; all the crime, all the violence, the negativity. I'm just a symptom of the greater societal ills which have befallen our urban poor. I ain't the fucking disease...I'm just the fever it gives you, the aches and pains you feel. You can call the cops on my hustlin' spot; grab the gat and twist my cap back; can't cure the disease by treating the symptoms though. You gotta go to the doctor and get the right medicine. What's the right medicine? It ain't welfare, that's for damn sure. It ain't the fucking public housing. All that shit just enables us to keep living the same way we do. I guess we got it easier than a lot of folks in other countries. Employers can't keep us from getting jobs based on the color of our skin. We're all Japanese after all. So what is it? I'll tell you; we don't know no better. We don't know how to do anything else. You think if I could go to school, get a education, get my degree and make bank by doing it legit that I wouldn't? You're fucking crazy...or stupid...or both.

I can't do none of that though. I can't get shit. I can't go anywhere. I sure as hell ain't flipping burgers for a living, and in Japan Incorporated you can't do nothing else unless you got that all important piece of paper that says you know some shit about a little somethin' somethin'...whether you do or not. So I'm sitting in the trap; trapped. Just like every other poor motherfucker in this 'hood. Stuck in the middle of all the pond scum, just trying to keep my head above water. Ain't that a bitch.

I raise the pipe to my lips and take another hit, reveling in the calm that the endo brings me. As I set the pipe down, I hear a knock at my door. I look over at it, wondering who it could be. Shit...ain't nobody came for me yet. Probably just Sato or Kai. I stand up and start heading for the door, but I hesitate for just a moment. Another knock. I move back to the table next to my chair and grab my glock. "Who's there?"

No answer. Now I'm starting to feel nervous. If it was one of my homeboys they would have responded already. "I said who's there?"

I begin moving towards the door, raising my pistol to aim dead center. I slowly reach for the knob, when the door suddenly slams open, the chain lock busted. I fall backwards, blindly squeezing off an entire clip. I start to scramble to my feet, when a man steps around the corner and into the doorway, holding a silenced pistol in his hand. My eyes go wide, and my heart is slamming in my chest like a koto drum. The pistol comes up, and I react on instinct. The man flinches as my empty gun comes flying at his face.

Before he can recover, I'm on my feet, diving at him. My body slams into his, my right shoulder catching him square in the solar plexus. I hear the breath _whoosh_ from his chest in a great rush at the same time as I hear his silence pistol cough quietly, and I feel a stinging, white-hot pain in my left shoulder. Then we're slamming into the hallway floor just outside my doorway. I hear his gun skittering across the hall, but I don't see where it stops. I take advantage of the momentary respite that his stunned breathlessness provides by rising up and sliding forward just enough to straddle his stomach. My right fist rises up and then crashes down into his face, shattering the stylish sunglasses that he's wearing, followed by my left fist smashing into his mouth. His own fist snaps up and catches me in the mouth, splitting my lip open. As he goes for another punch to my face, I push his arms aside and bring my right fist down again, directly on his nose. A resounding crack echoes through the dimly lit hallway, and he grunts softly. I don't hesitate any further, pounding on his face repeatedly, right, left, right, left, right, left, until the only sounds are my own hoarse grunts of exertion and the dull thud of flesh meeting flesh. Finally, after what seems an eternity, he stops moving.

The hitman's eyes, bloody and swelling, roll back into his skull, showing me whites that are rapidly turning crimson red. I hit him four times more for good measure, then stand up hurriedly. My breath is coming in heaving gasps, and my eyes are darting around the hallway and down the stairs, looking for any other threats. Seeing none, I glance in the direction that I heard his pistol going. I see it there, sitting on the floor next to Mrs. Ito's door. I walk over to it, my left shoulder suddenly aching fiercely. I put my right hand up to it; it comes away bloody. "Shit." I mutter to myself. At least I won't die from this one.

I bend over and pick his gun up in my left hand, staring at it. A glock...a glock 17. Like my old one, but with a silencer/flash suppressor attached to the end of the barrel. I step over the Yakuza killer's prone form and into my apartment. For some absurd reason, I'm remembering my weed. Moving slowly over to my table and chair, I pick up my dank and my unfinished bowl, pocketing them. Then I head back into the hallway. I stand in the doorway for a moment, staring down at my handiwork. The man's face is swelling rapidly, and is quickly becoming unrecognizable. "Tsubara Yoshi; I know this guy. I even liked him. I shake my head; damn fool. I aim my new pistol at his face, drawing a bead right between his eyes. As I'm about to squeeze the trigger, I experience a rare attack of conscious. This man has a family, a special link to life outside of crime. He has a beautiful young wife, only twenty-six years old, and two kids. Then it passes, as I knew it would. He should have thought about that before he came after me. He should never have married the bitch in the first place. People like him; like me...we ain't meant to have families. We ain't meant to be happy. We're meant to grow up hard, live fast, and die young; and so he does.

Yoshi's pistol bucks twice in my hand, and a pair of neat, reddish holes appears in his face, one between his eyes, and another just above it. I don't spend any more time on him, dashing down the stairs to the first floor, and then running out the door. As I reach the exit from the building, I notice a body on the ground. The young man is pulling himself into a sitting position and his legs are bleeding profusely. I stop for a moment and stare at him. His eyes meet mine, and he offers me a strained smile. "Shit man...thought it was payday." He obviously sees the silenced gun in my hand. It doesn't take much to deduce that he'd been shot by the same weapon only minutes ago. He should count his blessings; Yoshi was one of Takeda's most merciful assassins. In his eyes, if you weren't a target, you weren't worth killing. That's why he pumped a round into each kneecap.

Poor Takeo may never walk right again, but if it was anyone else, he'd be dead. I crouch down in front of him. Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I hand it to him. "Call an ambulance homie."

"I'm sorry Kiki...I'd have put one in his head straight off if I'd known he was comin' for you."

I shake my head slowly and rest a hand on Takeo's shoulder. "Don't worry about it kid. Just get yourself some help. I gotta go."

As I stand up and begin to walk away, I hear Takeo's pained voice behind me. Sato's right; I should have been 3 Serpents. They care more for me than Takeda ever did, apparently. "Hey Kiki. You're bleedin' man. You get him?"

I stop and turn to face Takeo. "Yeah...I got him. Call an ambulance homeboy. Don't worry about me."

Takeo grins through the pain, dialing emergency services on the phone I gave him. "Hey man." he says. "Double Deuce got your back. I'll tell em' all that you killed the motherfucker done shot me."

"I didn't do it for you." I say tersely, trying to keep the sadness out of my voice.

Takeo's grin spreads even wider. "I know...but nobody else does." He brings the phone to his ear, and then waves me off. "Get the fuck out of here man."

I nod my head and turn away from him, running as fast as my legs will carry me. I wish that I had a car. I had one, a fast one, but the cops confiscated it after Naomi parked it outside the projects. I don't have the time to get one now. Where I'm thinking of going, I can't bring a stolen car that hasn't been chopped. Of course, I shouldn't be going there in the first place. I just don't have anywhere else to go...at least nowhere that's remotely safe.

"Nabiki, phone!" Kasumi called. She couldn't help but notice that Keona had sounded shaken, as if something had happened. He sounded like Ranma after a bad fight; after a fight that had gone wrong. Kasumi knew that many people thought that she was oblivious to the chaos that permeated her hometown of Nerima. This couldn't be further from the truth. She, of all people, knew exactly how bad it was. The only person more qualified to testify to the terrors of her hometown was Ranma himself. But even with that, even with all the things she'd seen since that wonderful young man had arrived, she couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like to live like Keona lived. She knew what the tattoos meant. She'd seen them when he'd arrived that first night. She didn't ask questions though. It wasn't her place to do so. It was her place to be there for her sisters and Ranma. Their fathers were incidental, and if they were to suddenly disappear, it would make little difference to Kasumi.

As Nabiki took up the phone, Kasumi watched her little sister crumble. Everyone thought that Nabiki was so mature; that because she was responsible for the house finances that she was an adult. It was a ridiculous idea. Nabiki was good with money, but little else. When everyone else had fallen asleep, and she felt she was in no danger of discovery, it was Kasumi that she came to for consolation. When she cried, she cried in Kasumi's arms, always mindful of the nearness of anyone that might discover her in a moment of weakness. When she confessed her complicity in a scheme gone wrong, it was Kasumi that she confessed to. Kasumi was not oblivious. She was a rock. She was the strength of the family. For her to break down would be the end of the Tendo Clan. It would be the final end of the centuries-old Samurai legacy that had been slowly dying ever since her mother had been interred in the Nerima Municipal Cemetery.

Kasumi didn't react to the strangeness, to the fights, to the pain. Not because she wasn't intelligent enough to understand, but because she was Samurai. Her great-great-great-grandfather had been Samurai before he'd given in to his perversions. Kasumi was determined to carry on the noble traditions that Happosai had stood for before he'd become weak; before he'd lost the strength of his ancestors. Kasumi was a rock. Her Samurai ancestors were with her. They lent her strength. She might not have known how to wield the Tendo Daisho that rested in front of her mother's shrine, but she knew how to wield the Tendo Honor. She may not have been a warrior in the physical sense of the word, but she was a warrior nonetheless. The Gods had given her power beyond imagination, and she would wield that power until she died. And her power was the power of contentment and compassion, to be given freely until there was no one else in need. They had given her the power to hold together an entire family that was falling apart at the seams.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" she asked as Nabiki hung up the phone, her face betraying her sadness.

Nabiki tried to play it off as though nothing were wrong. "Nothing sis. It's fine."

"Everyone's out Nabiki." That was all she had to say. Nabiki took a quick look around, completely indicative of the mistrust she felt for anyone but herself, before slowly moving into Kasumi's arms for a hug.

"I think it's pretty bad this time. He wouldn't tell me, but I can hear it loud and clear."

"What's bad?" Kasumi queried, her voice calm, although the sick feeling in her stomach told her that she knew exactly what it was that Nabiki was talking about.

"It's Kiki."

"Keona?" Kasumi asked, her voice soft and angelic, belying the sudden fear she held inside. Although she'd known Keona for only a short time, she felt as strongly for him as she did for Ranma. He brought Nabiki happiness, and the mercenary girl had started opening up more and more since she'd been with him. But he was very much like Ranma, in that he was a powderkeg just waiting to explode. He was volatile, and unless he found a way to detach, and slow down, he was either going to damage himself or everyone around him, and he'd already shown which way he was going.

"Keona." Nabiki affirmed, her voice soft and pained.

"What's wrong?"

Nabiki stepped back from Kasumi. "He needs to come back...but he wouldn't tell me exactly why. He just sounded...scared, you know?"

"Then we'll take him." Kasumi said, her resolve firm. She might have been Samurai, but she was no elitist fool as the Samurai of old had been. If someone needed her help, it was her duty to provide it. "This will work out sweetheart, I promise."

"I don't...I don't know Kasumi." Nabiki murmured. "I just don't know what I can really do to help him."

"Well, keep working on him, for one thing. Men need to be trained...kind of like big dogs." Kasumi smiled, as this elicited a short giggle from Nabiki. "And have Ranma watch him." Kasumi knew that if anyone could insure Keona's safety , Ranma could.

"Ranma can't dodge bullets. I won't have Akane sitting at his funeral because I messed up." Nabiki said.

"Have faith in him." Kasumi replied calmly. "He'll be fine. He's done the impossible before...more times than any of us care to remember."

"But what if-"

"What if nothing. He'll be fine." Kasumi replied, smiling at her little sister. "Ranma is more important to this world than any president, prime minister or premier that we've ever seen. He'll be fine. The Kami wouldn't let someone like him slip away so needlessly."

Nabiki looked a bit skeptical, but she nodded her head anyway. "He'll be here tomorrow."

"Will he be sleeping in your room?" Kasumi asked. Nabiki nodded, and Kasumi said, "Then I'll get everything ready." Kasumi was the sole bearer of a Tendo tradition that was centuries old. Her father could talk all he wanted about joining the schools. He wasn't Samurai. He was weak. He was a fool. There were two true Samurai in the Tendo household. Kasumi and Ranma. Kasumi felt ashamed that she had forced the engagement on her youngest sister, and even more ashamed that she coveted that engagement for herself. Ranma was the love of her life, and she couldn't say anything in her own defense. The engagement belonged to Akane, and nothing else would be proper. And so Kasumi would suffer as Akane suffered, as Ranma suffered. She would support the engagement as no one had supported her. She would support it by saying nothing against it, no matter how abusive and wrong it was; until one of them came to their senses and called it off. Then she would be there to take up her family's honor, as was only proper for the first born to do. Kasumi the Samurai.

"Homie, are you sure about this shit?"

"No."

"Then what the fuck? You just told me you loved this bitch. I ain't sayin' nothin' 'bout that, but fuck...you know what the risks are."

"I know."

"Then what the fuck are you doin'? You ain't even called your sister yet. Ain't you at least gonna warn her?"

"I'll do what I gotta. 'Sides, nobody knows where she lives. And I'll call Aiko tomorrow morning. I'll get some protection for her."

"Motherfucker, what you gotta do is look out for number one. Call Aiko, call Nabiki, then lay low for a while. Don't worry about them. Aiko can take care of herself, and like you said; nobody knows where Nabiki lives."

Keona glared hard at Sato, the clotted bullet wound in his shoulder burning fiercely as he turned his head. "Boy, I been looking out for number one for too fucking long. What the fuck good has it done me? Where the fuck am I? Where the fuck have I gone?"

Sato sighed. Leaning against the backrest of the drivers seat, he took a long hit off the blunt he held. "Ain't none of us gone nowhere." he said, as honestly as he knew how. It was strange, Sato thought, that he could only be honest with a few select people in his life. He couldn't even tell his mother the truth about how he felt. She was too drunk most of the time. He knew that she drank because she was too afraid to confront the sad truth about her life. That her husband had been murdered only two months after she'd married him, and that the son that had been born three months later was well on his way down the same path.

"Bullshit...I've gone somewhere. I've gone to funerals." Keona said bitterly.

Sato passed the blunt to Keona and said, "I have too."

"Yeah, you have too. Where the fuck else have we gone? We're still stuck in the 'hood. We're still slangin' crack." Keona took a long hit, hoping that the weed would help ease his painful conscious. "We've been doing this shit since we was kids man...and we still ain't no closer to that shit that our 'benefactors' said we'd be."

Sato blew out a long, hissing breath between his teeth. "Man...This is all we got. This is what we do; it's who we are."

"Fuck that." Keona muttered, his voice coming out slightly choked, a result of trying to hold the smoke in his lungs. After a moment, he blew out the smoke. "I'm sick of this shit man. I been to too many funerals. I been to more funerals than years I been alive." Keona laughed sharply, bitterly. It petered out quickly, and he shook his head. Looking down at his hands he said, "Did you make it to Horse's funeral? Had to miss that shit. You know how it goes." he whispered, handing the blunt to Kai.

Sato nodded slowly, forcing down the tears that the mention of one of his dead friends brought on. "Yeah." He thought about the ceremony. It had been beautiful, but painful. His mother sobbing as if her whole life had come to an end; his little brother crying softly, as if he'd known the day would come. His father was gone, dead in a drug shooting seven years ago, just another statistic...like Horse himself; like almost all their fathers. "Shit was beautiful man. All them flowers. Everybody turned out, all dressed up in black suits. His mama was there." Sato shook his head, desperately trying to keep from showing anything beyond the detached anger that he'd always shown and failing miserably. "She loved him, you know? Sometimes...just sometimes, mind you...but sometimes, I wish I had his mama instead of mine. She showed it. I know my mama loves me. I know she'd cry if I got taken off the shelf...but his mama showed it. She's a good lady, you know? To this day, she ain't touched a drop of drink in her life, ain't smoked no shit. She's a good lady...like your girl, kind of. She didn't deserve that."

Keona passed the blunt to Kai in the back seat. "No one deserves that. You boys think that's what he wanted? You think that's what he had in mind."

Kai snatched the blunt and growled, "What the fuck Kiki! You think that's what any of us have in mind? You think that's what any of us want? You think I want my mama cryin' at my fuckin' funeral?"

"Well what the fuck you think you're gonna get? A fuckin' prize? We're all dead if we stay here, doing what we're doing."

Kai looked away, staring out the window at the park outside, listening to the rain as it pattered gently against the roof of the car. "Man, we ain't supposed to make it old."

Keona shook his head, an angry frown coming over his face. "Fuck that. I ain't goin' out like that. This is third time I've been shot. The first two almost killed me. I got fucking lucky this time. I ain't dying now."

"Yeah, well, good for you." Kai muttered before he took his hit. He passed the blunt up to Sato, his mind in turmoil. "I can't see fade man. I'm too fuckin' young."

Keona snorted, his expression humorless. "Shit man, we're all too fucking young. I'm mixed up with the Yakuza...y'all with the 3 Serpents. Man, I'm only twenty years old. I'm a month off from twenty-one. I got a girl...a good girl, even though she gots a little shit going on for herself. I never thought I'd see fade neither. But here I am. I been in ICU twice, emergency surgery twice...I ain't got shit to live for but Nabiki and a better life...and here I am."

Sato grinned, then chuckled. " Yeah, here you are. Bleedin' all over my mama's seat. If she's sober enough to notice it, she'll be pissed tomorrow."

Keona rolled his eyes, knowing full well that Sato's mother would be just as drunk tomorrow as she was tonight. The poor woman hadn't been right since Sato's pop got locked up nine years ago. "Man, don't nobody give a shit about us but us. I am the master of my destiny and all that shit. Fuck."

"I hear ya." Kai replied.

Keona looked over at Sato, then back at Kai. "Look man...we need to finish this shit. I need to get this shit done and over with, then I'm out."

Sato looked at his old friend askance. "What you mean you're out? Ain't no gettin' out."

"Just what I said. When this shit is over, I'm out. Out of the game. I ain't selling no more drugs, I ain't doing no more killing for money. I'm out."

"How the fuck you figure that?" Kai asked. "Unlike the rest of us, you ain't even got a legal identity past the age of ten."

Keona shrugged. "I don't know. I'll think of something. But I can't keep doing this shit."

Sato laughed then, long and loud, his voice destroying the relative quiet that had existed since he and Kai had picked up a bleeding and frightened Keona from the Katsuhara Projects an hour earlier. "Man, you should listen to yourself. Listen to what the fuck you're sayin'."

"Fuck you." Keona replied softly, his voice barely audible. He took the nearly-spent blunt from Sato, took a hit, rolled down the window and pitched it out. "I'm gonna live past this shit. Like I said...I ain't going out like that."

Kai waved his hand in dismissal of Keona's words and said, "Homie, you goin' out however you goin' out. Accept it."

"I ain't accepting shit. I'm gonna die a old man. I'm gonna see my kids grow up. I'm gonna see my grandkids."

"You and me both." Sato muttered, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile.

"Yeah." Keona replied. He closed his eyes, his mind focusing in on Nabiki and her face. She was beautiful. She was smart. She was classy. She was everything he could ever want, and everything he didn't deserve. "Man, when I met this bitch Takai kept telling me how she was too good for me."

Kai laughed and said, "She probably is man...but fuck, when have you ever listened to anybody but yourself?"

"Yeah, you're right...you're right." Keona sighed, the hurt of years of loss encroaching upon him. He didn't show it though. "But I don't know nothing else."

Kai shook his head. "Man, life is what you make it. The only person that can change it is you."

"I know."

"So what you waitin' for?" Sato asked.

"Takeda and Yamada." Keona said tersely. "I need this. I need to finish this."

"You and me both." Sato said. "You and me both."

"Hey man...I gotta get this bullet pulled out. This shit is killing me." Keona put a hand up to his wounded shoulder. He grimaced, then slowly turned his head to face Sato. "No hospitals though."

Sato sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Where the fuck can we go?" he asked, more to himself than to the other two in the car.

Still, it was Keona who answered. "Dr. Tofu."

The morning dawned bright and clear, but without the normal sounds of hand-to-hand combat that usually accompanied it. Nabiki lied awake in her bed, staring at her clock. The alarm would go off in three minutes, but she hadn't slept a wink. She'd been thinking about Keona all night long. The call had been short, and anything but sweet. He hadn't told her what was happening, but his voice had been tense; pained. She didn't know exactly what had transpired, but she knew that it had been bad. He'd told her that something had happened, and that his apartment wasn't safe anymore. She'd almost expected that. She'd been waiting for a call from the coroner's office, hoping that someone could identify the body. Instead, she'd gotten the call from Keona himself. 'Just a couple more weeks baby...just a couple more weeks. I just gotta take care of some shit, then we can do whatever. I'm out after this..' It killed her to admit it, but she was afraid. She still hadn't figured out what she could use to get him away from all the shit he was wrapped up in.

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she stood up slowly. Her bladder screamed for relief, and she headed to the bathroom to relieve it. As she squatted over the toilet she wondered if Keona had been serious. She wondered if he really meant that he'd be done. Nabiki wiped herself clean, flushed, and moved to the bathing stool. She washed herself quickly, then got into the furo. As she sank into the hot water, she imagined a life with Keona. A life without any of the shit that was following him. She didn't know exactly what he meant when he said that he had some things to take care of, but she had a pretty good idea. Determinedly, she made up her mind to talk to Ranma. Keona might be a badass, and he might be a seasoned criminal, but Ranma was the most powerful person she'd ever met. And Nabiki knew that no matter what she'd done to him, he'd be there for her, because that was just the kind of person that Ranma was. He was completely selfless, and a true gentleman. She almost envied whichever girl ended up with him.

As Nabiki's thoughts moved along, they coalesced into the image of a tattooed young man with scars from bullet wounds on his torso. Ever since her mother had died, Nabiki had been thinking about her family. She spent what she made from her illicit betting pools, gambling rings and blackmail rackets on her family, making sure that her two sisters and her father would have a place to rest their heads at night. It was time to think about herself.

As Nabiki sat in the furo, her nerves slowly calming, the door slid open and then shut again. She glanced up to see Akane sitting down one of the stools and washing herself with cold water. When she'd finished, she stood up and settled into the furo with a happy sigh. "Morning Nabiki." Akane said.

"Morning." Nabiki replied tonelessly.

Akane's eyes focused on her big sister. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

Akane eyed her sister for a moment and then shrugged. "If you say so."

Silence reigned for the next five minutes, before Nabiki broke it. "I need Ranma for a few days."

"What for?"

Nabiki forced one of her cheshire smiles and said, "Nothing indecent. I just need him to do a little surveillance is all."

'Who's he supposed to be watching?" Akane asked suspiciously.

"Well now that would be telling...you know that I can't talk about my clients." Nabiki replied.

"Come on Nabiki. Who is it?" Akane hoped that Nabiki wouldn't be stupid enough to have him chasing one of his fiancees. Of course, it was just as likely that Nabiki would have him tailing some guy who owed her something. With a sigh, she nodded her head. "Just...just don't have him do anything too crazy." she said. She almost kicked herself for the last thing she'd said. It was Ranma. How could she realistically expect anything crazy _not_ to happen.

Nabiki seemed to be on the same train of thought. She raised an eyebrow, and said, "Think about what you just said." She smirked and leaned her head back on the edge of the furo. "Don't worry though. I'll make sure he's well compensated for this one."

"You're actually going to pay him?"

"Why, dear sister! How could you ever think that I wouldn't?" Nabiki replied, her eyes growing large and her tone dripping with sugar.

Akane stared at her sister, a growing sense of impending doom building within her. "Ah...I uh-okay." was all she could say. Somehow, she knew that Nabiki something more than just 'a little surveillance'. She only hoped it wouldn't too bad. Her confidence received quite a blow when her sister smiled at her again.

"Thanks sis! I'll have him back in one piece, I promise." The tones were, if anything, even sweeter. "You don't have to worry about a thing."

_Famous last words._ Akane thought.


	14. Closing In

Here we go...we're in the home stretch now. There's only a few chapters of this story left. Hopefully, they'll all be up very soon. The closer I get to the end, the easier it's getting to write. I actually just started working on this chapter this morning, so if it comes out a little rushed...sorry. I read it over, and it looks okay to me. I wouldn't have posted it if it didn't. Hope it's up to the standards of the previous installments. Enjoy! Oh, and uh...please R&R. Thanks.

-Break-

I open my eyes feeling slightly disoriented. I slowly sit up, blinking the sleep away, and look around the strange room that I find myself in. It takes me a few seconds to place my surroundings, but when I do, I heave a sigh of relief. Dr. Tofu's clinic; not a hospital. The bullet has been removed from my shoulder, and the wound is expertly bandaged and well on its way to healing. It wasn't that bad to begin with; apparently the bullet just chipped off a piece of my shoulderblade before losing its momentum. But it still hurt like hell yesterday. It's a little sore right now, but not nearly as bad as I would have expected. Doc Tofu really is a miracle worker. I have no idea how he does what he does, but I'm thankful that he let me in when I showed up last night. It was late, and I could tell that he'd been asleep in his apartment upstairs. Still, when he'd opened the door and seen me standing there with my bloody shoulder, he'd ushered me inside immediately. He'd taken a cursory look at the wound before looking me straight in the eye and saying, "You're not going to be making a habit out of this are you? Because if you are, I might have to start charging you by the bullet."

No questions beyond that. He'd just gone straight to work. After he'd hit a few pressure points to ease the pain, he'd gone to work getting the bullet out. He'd done that with a minimum of fuss, and then had packed the entrance wound with some kind of funky smelling bright orange herb that he'd said would accelerate the healing process. Shaking my head in wonder at his uncanny healing abilities, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and stand up. My clothes, minus the ruined shirt, are sitting on a table across from the small bed, freshly washed. A clean white t-shirt sits next to the clean clothes. I walk to the table and pick up the garments. Resting on the table underneath them is the Glock 17 that I took from poor, dead Yoshi. Weed is gone though...shit. That's some strange shit. Gets rid of the weed, lets me keep the gun. I quickly get dressed, tuck the pistol into the back waistband of my pants, slip my shoes on and head towards the door. I hesitate for a moment, wishing I had something to cover up the tattoos on my arms. Nothing for it though. I'll just have to go as is. Opening the door, I take a moment to glance up and down the short hallway. Seeing no one there, I exit the room and head downstairs into the clinic. As I walk past the examination room, I hear Doc's voice. I stop for a moment, debating whether or not to knock, then decide against it. I'll give him a call or something later, and thank him then. The waiting room is empty, for which I'm grateful. The less people who see me here, the better.

I head for the door and step outside into the bright midday sunlight. It's a hot day, probably up in the nineties, but it feels nice. Summer will be over soon, and I'll miss it when it's gone. I hate cold weather. I take a deep breath and begin walking towards the Tendo Dojo. I walk quickly, keeping my eyes straight ahead, making eye contact with no one. Of course, that's a bit odd in this area of Tokyo. People here are accustomed to smiling and waving at those they pass on the street. Old habits die hard though. Making eye contact with someone you don't know in the NJ is a direct challenge, and is a good way to start a fight...or worse. Every time a slow moving car passes by, my eyes are on it, as if I'm waiting for...well, for something. I know nothing is gonna happen though. That don't make me feel any less nervous, walking all alone out here. My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon. I quicken my step a little more, hoping that I can get some food from Kasumi once I get to the Dojo.

I'm not sure how long it takes me to get there, but suddenly I'm standing in front of the gate to the Tendo Dojo. I hesitate for a moment, then sigh deeply. I walk through the gate and head up the walkway to the front door. Raising my hand, I knock firmly three times. It's only a few seconds before I hear soft footsteps coming towards the door. It swings open to reveal Kasumi, standing there in a long skirt, a pretty white blouse and her ever present apron. She smiles at me and says, "Welcome back Keona. Nabiki is in the bath. She'll be out in a few minutes. Would you like something to eat in the meantime?"

I step inside and nod gratefully. "That'd be great. I ain't eaten yet today."

"Oh, well then why don't you just sit down in the living room? I'll bring you something." she says brightly.

"Thanks Kasumi." I take my shoes off and head for the living room. As I sit down, I become acutely aware of the pistol tucked into the waistband of my pants. It don't feel quite right having it on me in Kasumi's house, but I don't have nowhere else to put it right now. I'll figure something out later. I ain't getting rid of it, that's for damn sure. Nabiki is just gonna have to understand. I ain't about to leave myself defenseless. Not when I still got my business to take care of. I'm almost done though. I'm almost finished. If I can get out of this shit alive, I'll put the gun down and never pick it up again. But I still need it for a while. Just a little bit longer. Just a few more days. Then I'm done. I'm out. Kiki's going legit. Ain't that some shit? Who'da thought?

-Break-

Akina stared down at the cold corpse of the Yakuza hitman, lying there on the floor of the hallway. A large pool of congealed blood was spread about his head and back, and two neat holes adorned his forehead, roughly a half-inch separating the two. Slipping on a pair of rubber gloves, Akina sighed and crouched down next to the man, doing her best to avoid stepping in his blood. Carefully lifting his head a couple inches off the ground, she saw the messy exit wounds in the back of his head, merged into one by the closeness of the shots. A piece of liquified brain oozed out of the wound, landing on the bloody linoleum beneath with a soft _splat_. Akina let his head down gently, then looked up at Yassine, who was coming out of the open apartment doorway behind Makoto from GnO.

Looking down at the body, Makoto said, "The forensics guys are dusting the place for prints right now. I'm heading down to the station to type up a report. This guy is Yakahito-gumi. That makes two of them in less than a month. I have a feeling this is gonna get worse before it gets better."

Yassine nodded her head slowly. "We'll see you later Makoto."

"Yeah, later. Happy hunting you two."

As Makoto walked down the stairs Yassine said, "I just got off the horn with city housing. This apartment is being rented by one Watanabe Koji."

Akina nodded her head. "What about the pistol we found? The one with the empty clip?"

Yassine shrugged. "One of the guys from ballistics took it back to the lab. It's already been printed, so hopefully that'll turn something up. Every bullet is accounted for though, and none of them hit the vic."

"Well, maybe we'll get lucky."

"Us? Lucky? Don't make me laugh. We never get lucky." Yassine removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

"Hey, we got lucky with the parking garage shooting. Managed to connect it to our first vic. Then we got ol' Bucki in the nightclub on the same ticket. If we can tie it all together with this we'd have-"

"One hell of a mess." Yassine finished for her. "We still need a killer, and the closest thing we've got to it is some guy with no last name, no vital records, and no one that knows anything about him." Putting her glasses in their protective case, she slipped them into the right pocket of her stylishly pin-striped suit jacket. "Well, shall we start interviewing the neighbors?"

Akina moved out of the way as two paramedics reached the top of the stairs with a gurney. As they loaded the corpse onto it and strapped it down, she nodded her head. "Might as well start right here." she said, gesturing at the door across from their open apartment. "She's the one who called it in."

"Right then." Yassine said. Once the body was removed, she stepped up to the door and knocked loudly.

A few moments later, the door opened, revealing an elderly woman who looked to be in her late seventies or early eighties. She squinted at the two detectives and said, "Yes? Can I help you?"

Yassine showed her badge to the old woman and said, "I'm detective Porphyres and this is my partner, Detective Ishikawa. You were the one who called the police this morning?"

The old woman nodded her head and stepped aside, saying, "Please, come in. My name is Ito Kaori."

"Thank you Mrs. Ito." Yassine and Akina stepped inside and the old woman shut the door behind them.

"Would you young ladies like some tea?" Mrs. Ito asked politely.

"No thank you." Yassine replied for both of them. They followed Mrs. Ito into her living room and took a seat on the couch when she offered. Mrs. Ito sat down in a padded rocking chair.

"What can I do for you?" the old woman asked.

Akina said, "We're hoping you can give us some idea what happened outside your apartment."

Mrs. Ito looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Well, it was late last night...I thought I'd heard something, but you know, I sleep with earplugs in. And the old ears just aren't what they used to be anyway. I decided that it was probably just some young person watching a violent movie or something."

Yassine interrupted her, asking, "When did you discover the body Mrs. Ito?"

The old woman looked sad for a moment, then said, "Well, it must have been around nine thirty this morning. I was going out to get some groceries, and when I opened the door I saw him just lying there in front of Keona's apartment."

Yassine felt as though she'd been sucker-punched in the stomach. "Did you say _Keona's_ apartment?"

"Why yes." Mrs. Ito replied.

"We were under the impression that someone named Koji lived there." Said Yassine.

"Oh no...Keona is his name. He's a very sweet young man. He helps me carry my groceries when I see him. So polite." She smiled briefly, then the corners of her mouth turned downward in a frown. "His door was wide open, and I thought he might have been hurt. I called the police immediately, and then decided I'd better wait to leave until you all had finished up in there." Mrs. Ito looked back and forth between the two policewomen sitting on her couch, both of them open-mouthed in shock.

Yassine turned her head slowly to look at Akina. Akina shook her head in wonder at their sudden stroke of luck. Then she turned back to Mrs. Ito and said, "Mrs. Ito, can you tell us what Keona looks like?"

She thought about it for a moment, then said, "Well, he's about five feet, ten inches tall, with black hair and green eyes."

Yassine could feel excitement building within her. He was a perfect match, looks-wise. "Do you know if he's been hospitalized in the last few months?"

"Oh yes...poor boy, he was shot by some thugs while visiting his sister Aiko a few months back."

"Aiko?" Akina asked, excitement building inside her. She was busily writing all of the information down in her small notepad.

Mrs. Ito nodded. "That's right. Hotatsu Aiko, his older sister. Adopted though. She comes by to visit him sometimes. Such a sweet young lady. They recently lost their brother, you know?"

"Oh really?" Yassine replied. "That's very interesting." Looking over at Akina, she raised an eyebrow in silent query. At Akina's nod, she looked back at Mrs. Ito and said, "Thank you very much for your time Mrs. Ito. We'll be in touch if we need anything else."

"It's nothing at all. I do hope that you find Keona. I do so worry about him sometimes. He's a very sad young man. So much hardship for one so young." She smiled kindly at the two women before her. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Yassine shook her head. "No, I think that's all for now. You've been _very_ helpful Mrs. Ito." Pulling a business card out of her pocket, she handed it to the old woman and said, "My desk number and my cell number are on the card. If you speak to Keona or see him, please don't hesitate to call me."

Mrs. Ito took the proffered card and said, "You don't think that poor young man had anything to do with this awful thing, do you?"

Yassine stood up and said, "I don't know Mrs. Ito. But we'll need to ask him a few questions as well, seeing as how the murder took place on his doorstep. Thank you for your time."

Akina stood and thanked the elderly lady as well. When they'd stepped outside, they looked at each other, their eyes wide with disbelief. Yassine shook her head slowly and said, "Tell me that didn't just happen. We did not get that break."

Akina blinked several times, still surprised at the ease with which it had come. "That...that was just crazy."

A broad smile spread slowly across Yassine's beautiful, doll-like features. "I think it's time to have another little chat with Ms. Hotatsu. Seems she wasn't being completely honest with us last time."

Akina grinned. Gesturing towards the stairs, she said, "After you."

As they got into Akina's car Yassine said, "You think that unrelated shooting on the sidewalk last night was as unrelated as we thought it was?"

Akina shrugged. "Couldn't say. But it wouldn't hurt to talk to the detectives working that case. Hell, the vic is even alive. We might be able to get something off of him."

Yassine smiled again, feeling better about the Red Oni case than she had since they'd first been assigned to it just over a month ago. "You know Akina? Life is good. Life is very good."

"Yeah...we may even get off work on time today. I'm sure Reiko would be thrilled with that, and I know my husband's missed me the last few weeks. The kids have been running him ragged while we've been working on all of this."

Yassine said, "Well then let's get going. The quicker we get the questioning done, the quicker we can put our daily report in, and the quicker we can both get home."

"Right. Off to work we go." Putting the car into gear, Akina pulled out of her parking spot and began the fifteen minute drive over to Hotatsu Aiko's house. They were _so close_ to breaking this case wide open. She could feel it in her bones. It wouldn't be long...not long at all. Then they could be done with it. Back to the regular old, easy to solve drug shootings. And wouldn't that be lovely.

-Break-

Nabiki sat on her bed, staring at Keona. He was sitting next to her, looking down at their joined hands, saying nothing. "Come on Kiki-baby; what's going on?"

He finally looked up at her, his eyes dull, his expression guarded. Biting his lip, he seemed to hesitate. Finally, he said, "I've just got a few things I have to do, that's all...but I decided that when I'm done, I'm out."

"Out of what?" Nabiki asked, confused.

He sighed. "Out of the game...out of the life. I'm gonna be done completely."

Nabiki's eyes widened a little, and she sat back against the headboard. "You mean...no more guns, no more drugs?"

"No more. But I need a few more days before I'm done. I just have a couple of...loose ends that I need to tie up. That's all." He smiled at her then, and Nabiki felt like her heart would burst she was so happy. "I've got some money saved up, and I thought maybe we could go somewhere."

"Where?" she asked, unable to believe that she hadn't had to do anything. She'd been wracking her mind for days trying to think up some way to bring him around to her point of view. Now here he was, telling her exactly what she'd wanted to hear. A small part of her was still suspicious, but she had a feeling that he was being completely honest with her.

"Anywhere you want. I was thinking America or something."

"I've always wanted to go to America." Nabiki replied happily. "Still, what about my family?"

"We can visit whenever you want, and they can come see us too. I just...I can't stay in Tokyo. I don't know if I can stay in Japan."

Nabiki's brow furrowed, and she said, "You're not telling me everything, are you?"

Keona sighed, and looked back down at their hands. "I can't...I can't tell you everything, okay? You just have to trust me. It's for the best. I just need a few more days, and then we can be gone. Just please, trust me."

Nabiki's head canted slightly to the left, and she waited for him to bring his face back up. When he didn't, she reached up to his chin with her right hand and tilted his face up. She caught his gaze with her own and said, "That's a tall order to fill mister. You're not telling me much."

"Baby, I can't. But I need you to trust me. I promise, I'll tell you everything when I'm done. I just can't do it right now." Keona said, pleading as much as his pride would allow.

Nabiki stared deep into his eyes, searching for any trace of dishonesty. He wasn't being particularly forthcoming, but after recent events, she wasn't sure if she wanted him to be. She knew that when he finally did tell her what was going on, it wasn't going to be pleasant. In fact, she was quite sure that it was going to be downright awful. After almost a minute, she made her decision. "Okay."

"Okay?" Keona repeated, almost not believing that she was giving in so easily.

"Okay. But you'd better hold up your end of the deal." Nabiki said firmly.

He smiled at her, visibly relieved. "I will. I promise." Giving the hand he still held a gentle squeeze, he reached up and stroked her cheek with his free one. "I love you baby." As he lowered his arm, he winced slightly. He tried to cover it up, but Nabiki, as sharp as ever, instantly caught it.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" she asked.

He shook his head. "It's nothing. Just a little scratch."

Nabiki frowned. "Kiki, what happened? Tell me." He mumbled something under his breath, too low for her to hear. "What was that? Repeat that, only louder."

He grit his teeth tightly. Seeming to come to a decision, he slowly pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a slightly blood bandage on his left shoulder. Reaching behind him, he pulled the gun out of the waistband of his pants and laid it down on the bed between them, gazing at it meaningfully. "I had a visitor last night."

Nabiki gasped and scooted quickly away from the weapon. Looking up at her boyfriend, she said, "Kiki...you didn't. Did you?"

His eyes hardening, he said, "I didn't have a choice."

Nabiki slowly reached out and gently touched the bandage. Then, looking Keona straight in the eye, she softly said, "You shot someone, didn't you?"

"I didn't have a choice." he repeated softly. "It was him or me."

Looking down at the gun, she said, "Is that what those loose ends are? You think you have to go kill someone? Is that it?" His jaw clenching tightly again, he said nothing. "Kiki, you can't...you can't do this!"

Picking the gun up slowly, he stood up and walked to the small workdesk that sat along the wall. Placing the gun on it, he said, "Just a few more days baby. Just a few more days. It's not for me. It's for Yasuo."

"Yasuo's dead Keona! He's dead!"

"I know that, dammit!" Keona snapped, his tone brittle and thin. "I was there, remember?"

"Do you really think he'd want you to do this?" Nabiki asked, a horrified expression on her face. For all that people in Nerima were always shouting about killing people, no one ever actually followed through. And there was a killer sitting on her bed in front of her. A real killer. And he was going to kill again.

"Yes I do! He'd do it for me!"

"Well he can't...so who's going to do it for you? Because you're going to die Kiki! You're going to die, just like him!" Nabiki almost shouted, desperately choking back the frightened sobs that suddenly wanted to burst forth.

"I ain't gonna die. But I have to do this."

"No you don't! You don't _have_ to do anything you don't want to do!" she said, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes.

Keona went completely still, and a low, simmering hatred burned behind his glittering green eyes. "Fine...I don't _have_ to do this...but I _want_ to."

"Kiki, this is crazy." Nabiki said, lowering her voice. "You're not a bad person."

Keona took a deep, steadying breath. "Then I guess you don't know me as well as you thought you did."

Nabiki stood up and crossed the room to him. Wrapping her arms tightly around him, she buried her face in his shoulder and cried for all she was worth. Through her tears, she said, "Please don't."

Wrapping his arms around her and gently rubbing her back with one hand, Keona squeezed his eyes shut. "Just a few more days, baby. Just a few more days."

-Break-

Aiko sat on her couch, watching television, eating Chinese take-out. The last few days at work had been hectic, and she was grateful for the rest that the weekend provided. Keona had called her from the Tendo's earlier, letting her know that he'd be staying there for a little while. She didn't know exactly what was going on, but she'd learned not to pry too deeply into her brother's life. There were certain things that she just didn't want to know. It had been that way with Yasuo too. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that all was not well. It was as if there was a dark raincloud looming above her head, just waiting to let loose it's contents.

She sighed as she heard a knock at the door. This was the third time today her show had been interrupted by a phone call or a visitor. Setting her food down, she stood up and walked to the door. When she opened it, she was surprised to see the two detectives from the other day standing on her front porch. The American woman smiled pleasantly at her. "Good afternoon Ms. Hotatsu. We have a few more questions. Do you have a few minutes?"

With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Aiko nodded her head and waved them inside. "Of course."

Once they'd all settled themselves in the living room, the Japanese detective leaned towards her, her gaze intense and uncompromising. "So, about Keona..."

"What about him? I told you, I haven't seen him in a while." Aiko said nervously. Her stomach was doing flip-flops inside her, and she had a feeling that she wasn't getting out of this as easily as she had last time.

"Really?" Yassine asked. "That's funny, because a Mrs. Ito that lives in his building said you drop by his place quite frequently. In fact, she mentioned that you were his adopted sister. That's a little strange, because as I recall, you said that he was just an old friend of your late brother...Yasuo, was it?"

Aiko nodded her head, her mouth going dry. "Yes...that's his name."

"So I guess what I'm wondering, is why Mrs. Ito would be under the impression that this Keona character was your brother." Yassine tilted her head to the side, keeping her eyes on Aiko. "Was there something you maybe forgot to mention the last time we spoke?"

Aiko's heartbeat thudded loudly in her ears, and her palms grew sweaty and slick. She clenched her hands reflexively and stuttered out, "I-I...I don't know what you mean."

Akina said, "Are you familiar with the term 'obstruction of justice', Ms. Hotatsu?" Aiko slowly nodded, but said nothing. Her face had gone pale, and she was obviously very nervous. Perfect. "Good, then I won't have to explain it when I'm forced to arrest you." It was an empty threat at the moment, but Aiko didn't need to know that.

Yassine gently said, "Ms. Hotatsu...Aiko, we want to help Keona. But we can't do that if we don't know where he is. There are some very bad people looking for him, and if they find him first he could be in some serious trouble. We just need to talk to him about the case we're working on. It's very important. He could really be a lot of help to us."

Aiko looked back and forth between the two women, her eyes wide with fright. "I don't-"

"Aiko, we need your help. Help us help him. If you know anything, please tell us." Yassine said. She almost smiled as she watched Aiko's will visibly break. They had her.

Aiko's breath came out in a great rush of air, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. "Okay...okay." She took a deep, shuddering breath and said, "He's been mixed up with the Yakuza for a few years now. Yasuo was too. When Yasuo was shot, Keona was there. He was shot too, and he almost died. A few weeks ago, he was shot again. He went into hiding for a while when he got out, but then about a week ago he went back to his apartment in Katsuhara." Aiko rubbed at her eyes, trying to dry the tears that were threatening to leak out. "Earlier today, he called me and told me that something had happened...that someone had come for him. He told me that he was going to his girlfriends for a few days."

"Did he say anything else to you?" Akina pressed.

"No...no he didn't, and I didn't ask. I promise you, that's all I know." Aiko said.

"That's okay." Yassine said, her tone still calm and quiet. "Do you know where his girlfriend lives?"

Aiko nodded her head. "The Tendo Dojo in Nerima."

Yassine and Akina looked at each other, both of them trying to conceal their surprise. Nerima was a place that they both tried to avoid. Guns, gangs and drugs were one thing. Rumors of super-powered martial artists, chi blasts, rampant magical curses and giant pandas were another thing entirely. Looking back at Aiko, Yassine said, "Thank you very much." As she went to stand up, she said as an afterthought. "Oh, and her name would be?"

"Nabiki...Tendo Nabiki."

"Thank you for your time Ms. Hotatsu." Akina said as she and Yassine headed for the door. "We'll be in touch."


	15. In The End

An orange jumpsuit...twenty-one years on this fuckin' earth, six bullet holes in my body, three stab wounds, and almost six million American dollars in drug money stashed away, and this is all I have now. An orange jumpsuit, three hots and a cot. Bars in front of my face; caged like a fucking animal. "Front page news li'l nigga." That's what ol' Dayton said when he visited. Front page news li'l nigga. But all I got is this natty orange jumpsuit, a stainless steel shitter, and a stupid motherfucker whose ass I had to beat near to death on my first fucking day here sleeping on the bunk above me. And another dead friend. Missed the funeral though. I was...indisposed, I guess you could say.

If I could say one thing to all my boys back in the NJ, I'd say this. It ain't worth it. The old timers was right. Ain't none of us supposed to make it old. And those of us that are lucky enough to do so are usually only lucky enough to avoid the coffin, but not the cops. I spent the first ten years of my life growing up in an orphanage, knowing that my birth parents didn't want me. I spent the next ten hustling, scraping and scratching for every dime I could get, trying to keep it real. But I couldn't keep it true. It's been three months in this bitch, living in an honest to god cesspool of humanity.

Sister Maria even came to see me. Set me straight about my family at least. My mama didn't abandon me. She was forced to give me up. I know her name now. Pnang Yuriko. My mother. It's crazy, you know? She's a housewife, married to some wealthy Korean exec from Hyundai. She's got a daughter, thirteen years old. I have a little sister...ain't that some shit? I ain't met them yet, but they're supposed to be visiting today.

The cops and lawyers been at me to plea bargain, and I've been resisting em' every step of the way. I ain't no snitch, you know? They wanted me to give up Takeda-san and everyone in the Yakahito-gumi that I know. Like I said though, I ain't no fuckin' snitch bitch. So here I sit, staring at the wall of my cell. I get out three times a day. I get breakfast, then go back to my cell. After that, lunch. When lunch is over, I head to the weight room, and then to the basketball court. Gotta make sure I keep in shape. I ain't trying to pull no bitches in prison; I ain't like that. But I gotta be able to fight. My first couple weeks proved that to me. Someone always wants to be the toughest motherfucker in the pen, and I'm making sure it's gonna be me. I may not have much to live for anymore, but for some reason I just can't let go.

Nabiki comes in three times a week to see me. Every visiting day. And every time she tells me to just cooperate with the DA, try to get myself the lightest sentence I can. I could be out in ten years if I just hook them up with some names. Otherwise, I'm looking at four consecutive life sentences. Fuck it. I ain't no snitch. But I guess you're probably wondering how I ended up like this. Why am I in here? The story wasn't supposed to end like this. I was supposed to get my revenge, then ride off into the sunset with my girl and my money, safe from the law and the Yakuza. I guess I ain't as smart as I thought I was.

Sometimes, things don't happen the way you think they're supposed to. Sometimes, you get fucked. And sometimes you get fucked with no vaseline. But to tell this story right, I guess I need to go back about a month. That's when everything went to hell. Just a few more days is what I told her. Shit...just the rest of my life.

* * *

I stare at Kai across the table, keeping my eyes locked on his. "We can't fuck this up. You're sure this motherfucker'll be there?"

Kai nods his head, keeping his gaze steady on mine. "I'm sure. After Bucki died, he laid low for a few days. But he can't keep away." He takes a drag off his cigarette. "You know how it is man...gotta getchya freak on homie."

I smirk and roll my eyes. "What the fuck ever man. You just make sure you got the gat. I'm gonna need back up. I know this fool ain't stupid enough to roll up in that joint without his homeboys at his back." I take a long drag off my own smoke and blow the smoke out through my nostrils. "Not after how we did that bitch Bucki."

"I hear you man." Kai replies. He glances over at Sato. "You ready for this?"

Sato sneers cruelly. "Boy, I'm always ready. I'm comin' with heat mu'fucka. We gonna roll in there and hit them bitches like it ain't nothin'."

I nod my head in agreement, unable to see any other outcome. "We gonna do this right. That punk'll be dead before he can blink. Then we hit the ride and roll out with a quickness. I ain't about no shit past that."

"What about Takeda?" Sato asks.

I shrug. "He'll get his. I'll get his ass one way or another. Believe that."

Sato grins. "Shit homie, you ain't told me a lie yet." He holds out his hand, and I slap it hard, our fingers dancing in a complex handshake that's only supposed to be known by the 23rd street set. I'm as good as one of them though. Looking back, I've been tighter with 23rd street than I have been with Yakahito. Shoulda been 3 Serpents. Oh well. You know what they say...hind sight's 20/20. Still, the time will come to rectify that particular mistake. Mistakes; I made plenty. I suppose I'm 'bout to make one more. "Let's roll."

* * *

Takeda Akihito paced back and forth in his parlor, his pulse pounding, his trigger finger twitching. His daughter was out for the day with her friends. For that he was glad. He had business today, and it wasn't anything he'd want her to be privy to. Hell, he'd be happier if she had no idea what he did period. But she knew. At least she wouldn't have to know about this. Finally, he came to a stop. "You're sure about this?"

"I'm sure. You and I both know who he's going after first. His pattern is established. He'll go after Ichiro, then he'll be coming for you. We'll get him at the club."

Akihito nodded his head slowly. "Make sure you do. I can't afford any more problems. Shit, I don't even care if the Oni kid dies first. Let him get the stupid gangbanger, then take him. At least then he'll be committed. The Triads will be happy with him being dead. They won't care who else dies."

Kokoru nodded slowly. "We'll be there waiting."

"Good." Akihito sighed deeply, exhaustion plain on his face. "I can't afford another fucking mistake. Make sure he's dead. Make sure you see the body." Akihito paused thoughtfully. "And when you see it...put two in his head, just to make sure."

"Of course. I'm a professional."

"I know you are Koku. I know you are." Akihito dismissed his subordinate with a wave of his hand. Kokoru stood up and straightened his suit, saying nothing else to his boss. He knew his job, and he did it well. The three that he'd sent before had obviously been unreliable. One had died by Keona's hand. The second had died by his own; the price paid for lying. The third...the third had failed even more miserably than the first two. But this time would be different. This time, he'd make sure Keona was dead. Kokoru wouldn't fuck it up. He was loyal. He was a killer with few peers. He would make sure that the job was done right.

A month ago, Akihito would have laughed at the idea of Keona being his blood enemy. Now, it was a brutal reality. And the reality was that Keona had to be neutralized. Otherwise, Akihito's own position was compromised. That was unthinkable. Loyalty to one's underlings only went so far. As much as he'd cared about Keona before, he didn't hesitate to do what had to be done. And it had to be done. Before the clock turned to the next day, Keona would be dead and Akihito would be sitting pretty, ready to accept the praise for the absolute control that he held over his territory. Anything else was impossible.

* * *

Yassine and Akina stood on the doorstep of the Tendo Dojo, ready to break their case wide open. Here, in this house, lived a young woman who could give them everything they needed. They'd been diverted earlier in the day, during the afternoon, by a call from Lt. Hokaru. He'd been on them about late reports, paperwork that they'd yet to turn in. Yassine had been contrite, but privately angry, acquiescing to his demands with a grace born of years of bowing to higher authority. Akina had been vocally furious, cursing him out over the phone until Yassine had shut her up with a harsh glare and an apology. Luckily, the illustrious Lieutenant had been satisfied with that. Of course, having never done more than a few days real police work in his life, he had no way to truly understand the pressure they were under.

Lt. Hokaru was the son of a former Tokyo Police Commissioner. A consistent underachiever, he'd gotten by on his old man's name. Former Commissioner Hokaru had been a beat cop, an ace homicide detective, and a perfect public face for the TPD. Unfortunately, he was also unable to see past his own family's name, much like the vast majority of Japanese men throughout history. And so, at the expense of his future legacy, he'd appointed his fuck-up of a son as the head of homicide in the most violent district in all of Japan.

Lt. Hokaru was a stupid shit, and everybody that worked under him knew it. But the current commissioner was so fearful of the now retired, but still powerful, former comish that he didn't dare remove his son from his place of perceived power. And no matter what anybody said, knowledge wasn't power. Yassine struggled with the private knowledge that perception was power. And the current perception was that old man Hokaru still held great sway with the powers that be. Therefore, the real cops had to deal with his idiot son. And so, on their way to the Tendo Dojo, they'd been called back to the office to turn in a report that they'd neglected to finish in lieu of real police work.

Yassine's anger burned hot, but she managed to keep it under wraps. She could only hope that their suspect was here. Still, she had a sneaking suspicion that he'd flown the coop. Her premonitions had seldom failed her in the past.

Akina knocked, and they waited only a few seconds before the door was opened by a pretty girl with short, blue-black hair. "Can I help you?" she asked.

Yassine nodded. "My name is Detective Porphyres, and this is partner, Detective Ishikawa. We're looking for Tendo Nabiki."

The girl's eyes widened, and she said, "Please come in. I'll go get her for you." She led them into the house and saw them into the family room. There was a fat man in an off-white gi playing shogi with a slender, mustachioed man in a dark gray gi at the back of the room. They glanced at them, but seemed to take no more notice of them after that. Several minutes later, the girl came down the stairs, a young woman wearing a tight white t-shirt and a pair of ridiculously short shorts following her.

The young woman's hair was chocolate brown and cut in a stylish bob. If Yassine wasn't so focused on her job, she might have found her attractive. As it was, she was only a possible source of information. She sat down across from them and stared Yassine straight in the eye. Instanly , Yassine realized that this young woman wouldn't be intimidated by Akina, nor placated by Yassine's personable manner.

"Yes?" was all she said at first.

"Nabiki Tendo?" Yassine said.

"That's me."

Yassine smiled at her. "My name is-"

"Save it. I know who you are. You're police. You're here for Kiki."

"Excuse me?" Akina said, caught slightly off balance by the young woman's aplomb.

"Don't try and play games with me." Nabiki said, her tone matter-of-fact. "I know why you're here. I'm not going to resist. In fact, I'm going to be your best friend. But first, you have to be mine." She smiled cattily. "You want to know where Keona is."

Yassine nodded her head slowly, ignoring Akina's look of shock. No one was this quick to assist them. "You're right. That's exactly what we want. But I'm afraid that we hold the cards. We're the authority here."

Nabiki smirked at Yassine, and she felt eyes burning into the back of her skull. She turned her head, and noticed a handsome young pig-tailed man standing near the two older men. Raw power radiated off of him like heat off a bonfire. She didn't know quite what to make of it, but she was shocked to find tough, uncompromising Akina bowing before the girl in front of them. Nothing rattled Akina. "We would be most grateful for any assistance you could provide." Akina said, almost meekly.

Nabiki smiled again, slightly more pleasantly this time. "That's better." Looking back at the young man, she said, "Thank you Ranma. That's quite enough. They're not going to hurt anyone."

The young man said nothing, but instead lowered himself into seiza. The feeling of overwhelming power diminished only slightly, but for some reason Yassine still had the distinct feeling that they were way out of their league. The young man behind them seemed benign enough, but sheer, unadulterated power was rolling off of him in waves. Yassine had never felt anything like it in her life. She nearly shit her pants from nerves as she realized that this was the great Saotome Ranma that the Nerima Police talked about in whispered tones of fearful reverence. Supposedly he was honorable to a fault, but Yassine nonetheless felt as if she were being watched over by some all-powerful deity that only barely tolerated her presence in his domain. She could have sworn that she'd seen a pale blue glow surrounding his body before he'd kneeled down...of course, that was just crazy. That only happened in anime.

Turning her attention back to Nabiki, she said, "We're looking for a young man by the name of Keona...no family name. Is he staying here?"

"He is. He's not here right now though. He had something he had to go take care of." The girl betrayed nothing, displaying nerves of steel that Yassine almost envied. The girl was fearless.

"Do you know where we might find him?" Akina asked softly, her normal role of the tough cop disappearing in the face of the stoically silent young man at the back of the room. Yassine couldn't help but notice that the two older men were now staring at her as well. This was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. She'd been alone in prison cells with serial killers that put less fear in her than these martial artists. Maybe they shouldn't have called the Nerima cops crackpots at the last convention. They had to be certifiable badasses to work in this district, what with these people running amok.

Nabiki displayed a nasty grin. "I might. What's it to you?"

Yassine opened her mouth, then closed it. After a moment, she formulated a response. "We need to speak with him about a few incidents in North Juuban that we think he may have been involved in."

The grin disappeared from the girl's face, and she said, "I'm not going to beat around the bush. I'll tell you what you want to know. But I need a few assurances from you in advance."

At this point, Yassine was so eager to be away from the disconcerting presence of the obviously powerful Ranma that she was completely open to anything Nabiki suggested. "And those would be?"

"First off: No lethal force. You shoot him, and I set Ranma and his friends loose all over you. And believe me, you can't bring enough guns to ensure your safety in that eventuality." Another small smile, and then she said, "And a deal. Full immunity from any charges whatsoever in return for his full cooperation with the authorities."

Yassine didn't hesitate. "Done."

"Good...the club. That's what he said. He had business at the club." Nabiki smiled amiably at the two policewomen. "That's all I know."

Akina snapped, "That's it? The club?"

Nabiki turned her gaze on Akina and said, "That's all I know. Are you going to cause problems for us?"

Akina paled as a powerfully electric feeling permeated the room they were in. Without bothering to look at the obvious source, she said, "No, no, that's fine. The club. I think we can find it."

"Good." Nabiki replied. "You have to understand, I don't want him doing what he's doing any more than you do."

Yassine said, "Thank you for your help. We'll be in touch."

"I'm sure you will. Good evening." Nabiki said calmly, another smirk passing over her lovely features. "Call me when you've got something."

Yassine nodded and stood up hurriedly. Bowing deeply, she strode from the room. Once she and Akina had reached the car, she looked over at her partner. "You know, I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life."

Akina was silent for a few moments. When she finally spoke up, her voice was soft. "He was a chi adept."

"A what?" Yassine asked.

"A chi adept." Akina answered. "He was...he was so powerful. I could see his aura."

"You mean-"

"The glow...it was real. I don't think I've ever met anyone as powerful in my life. I've been studying martial arts since I could walk, and I've studied under some of the greatest masters in the world." Heaving a long, shuddering sigh, Akina said, "He made them look like small children. And he didn't even have to move."

"Good God." Yassine said. "That's like...like..."

"Like a nuclear bomb in human form."

Yassine's backside was aching, and it took her a moment to realize that her asshole was clenched so tight that she couldn't pass gas if she'd tried...which she did on occasion. Taking several deep breaths to relax, she said, "Well, shall we off to the club?"

"Yes, I believe we shall." Akina replied, desperately trying to keep up her image as the tough girl who feared nothing. "Time to catch us a killer."

* * *

Keona sat in the passenger seat of Sato's mom's car, finishing off the blunt they'd been smoking. "Y'all ready?" he asked, unnecessarily.

"Shit, as we'll ever be." Sato replied.

"Hell yeah." Kai said.

Keona flicked the blunt out his window and said, "Let's do this." Keona held his pistol up in front of his face, pulling the slide back with a satisfying _click-click_. The sound was repeated from the backseat, and then the robust sound of Sato's AK-47 cocking sounded from the driver's seat.

"Hell yeah Kiki...let's do this." Sato said grimly.

The three friends got out of the car, Keona and Kai tucking their pistols into the waistband of their pants.Sato didn't bother trying to conceal his weapon...it was too big. The assault rifle was held at the ready, like a soldier going into battle. Keona's heart was pounding in his chest as they approached the back door of the Four Rooms nightclub. Hatred burned in his soul, and sorrow was it's fuel. He was almost done. Yamada Ichiro had killed his brother, and now he was going to kill Ichiro. He'd killed men before. His first kill had come at sixteen. Now, almost five years later, he was almost done. After Ichiro, there was just one more to go. Takeda. Then he'd be finished. The end was in sight. Keona tried to feel happy, but for some reason it eluded him. All he could feel was anger, sadness and hatred.

The guard at the back of the door tried to stop them, but Kai's 9 mm silenced him forever. Then they were inside, striding down the rear hallway towards the champagne room. The scenery passed in flashes for Keona; time evaded him. When they reached the door to the champagne room, the three old friends shared a quick glance. Then Sato pulled his AK. Keona found his gun in his hand and he nodded his head. No words were needed. They knew what they were doing here. Keona kicked open the door and rushed inside, leading with his pistol. He dropped to one knee, his gun coming up in front of him. He saw his quarry in the booth near the back of the room, heard the pounding rap music assaulting his ears. _Bang!_

Everything is all fucked up. The sound of heavy gunfire is still ringing in my ears. Two dancing girls are dead, shot four times each through their naked chests. I don't know who got them. Maybe Sato, maybe Kai, maybe me...maybe Ichiro's boys. All his bodyguards are dead too. Blood is everywhere. I can feel it dripping down my face, but I know it ain't mine. I can hear Sato screaming Kai's name in the background, but I don't pay any attention. I've got my eyes on the prize. I slip in a fresh clip as I stride forward, almost in slow motion, my gun aimed at my quarry. And there he sits; Yamada Ichiro, his expression neutral, his hands up. He knows though. There will be no mercy.

I stop in front of his table, my fully-loaded pistol pointed at his face. He smiles wanly, and I could swear I see a tear squeezing out of his eye. He takes a deep breath and whispers, "Time to go." Then, looking me straight in the eye, he says, "Not in the face...please. I want my mama to see me one more time. At least gimme that." I stare at him, my eyes burning into his. And suddenly I'm stricken by the fact that he looks as miserable as I feel. He sits there, his gun on the table in front of him. He didn't even go for it once. Even as we busted through the door, guns blazing away, he just sat there, waiting for me to come. He knows what's about to happen. He knows as well as I do. And he didn't even do anything to stop it. "Just gimme that."

I struggle with myself for a moment, almost wishing that I could let this go. Nabiki was right. This is all bullshit. All I'm doing is causing more pain. I should be dead after this. Shit, I'll be dead if I'm lucky. I grit my teeth tightly; feel tears streaming from my eyes. I'm crying, and I don't know why. Or maybe I do. Except for a twist of fate, this man could have been my brother. If I'd have ran four blocks more, I could have ended up in his family instead. But I didn't. I stopped when I saw a pretty, sixteen year old girl sitting on her porch crying. I asked her what was wrong. She offered me a sandwich. And I stopped running. I stopped running, and I can't run anymore. I hear sirens outside, and I realize that I'm finished running. This is the end of the line. I nod my head, acknowledging Ichiro's final request. Not in the face. I'll give him that.

_BANG, BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!_ Six shots in the chest. He stares at me, his eyes wide. Then he slumps down in the booth. _BANG BANG BANG BANG!_ Four more shots, just below his neck. Ichiro smiles at me sadly, and then his eyes close forever. I don't know why, but I feel no satisfaction. The gun falls from my hand, and I turn to face the doorway. Sato is crouched there, his rifle on the ground beside him. He's huddled over Kai. Kai is dead. A shot through the throat, another through the chest...he's gone. I can tell. His eyes are open, with that lifeless stare that the dead always get. His eyes are glazed, unseeing. He's gone.

"Sato." My voice comes from far away, almost as if I'm not the one speaking. "Get the fuck out of here." Sato's head snaps around, and he stares at me for a moment. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" I scream. He stares for a moment longer, then nods his head. Quickly wiping the prints off his prized AK-47, he stands up and runs out the door, headed for the club itself. He'll get away. Sato always gets away. The old timers don't always get it right. Sato'll die an old man; a free old man. Somehow, I know this. He's the most ruthless one out of all of us, but he'll be the one to wise up on his own. He'll make it just fine.

Two minutes after he's gone, I hear a series of gunshots outside the club, and then two women rush into the room with pistols drawn, followed by an army of uniformed cops. I just stand there, my hands at my sides, my shoulder still aching from last night. I guess Nabiki was wrong. I ain't gonna die young. I'm gonna die in prison. I barely notice them cuffing me. My eyes are still on Kai. I brought him to this. If it wasn't for me, he would still be alive. As the two women lead me from the champagne room, I feel my gut clench tightly. I heave once, then twice, and then the meal that Kasumi cooked me before I left comes spewing out all over the ground.

* * *

It's over now. A few more days...that's what I said. But I didn't have a few more days. I only had today.

So here I am. Orange jumpsuit and all. I guess the game ain't all what it's cracked up to be, huh? Nabiki'll be here in a few, along with my mom. That shit still sounds weird as fuck. My mom. It's still hard to believe.

* * *

Yuriko straightened her kimono once again and then glanced at the younger kimono clad woman beside her. Nabiki was from an old samurai family, as she was. Unlike Yuriko, Nabiki had been born into that family. Yuriko had been adopted from the Sacred Heart Orphanage when she was nine. She'd done her best to uphold her family's honor since she'd been picked up from the orphanage by her new parents when she was a child. But when she'd gotten into high school, she'd entered a rebellious faze. Thinking that she was just having fun, she'd started going to house parties and drinking. When she'd missed her period she'd been fearful, and rightfully so. When she'd found out she was pregnant she'd been devastated. Not because she was going to be a teen mother, but because she'd known how her father would react. And she'd been right. He'd driven her to her grandparent's house in the countryside, and when the baby had been born, he'd taken her to the same Tokyo orphanage that she'd come from less than two weeks later, forcing her to give the child up.

Yuriko's emerald green eyes glistened with unshed tears as she thought of the blessing she was to receive. She'd always dreamed of finding her lost baby, ever since she'd given him away at the age of fifteen, sobbingly telling her beloved Sister Maria to tell him that he'd been abandoned at the gates by unknown parents. Her father was gone now, and her mother had advocated her going to see him once they'd found out where he was...even if he was in prison. And so she fussed over her appearance, wanting to make sure that she looked perfect for him. She felt as though she were on her first date with Kyung all those years ago, before Kimi had been born. But she was a thirty-six year old woman now, with a young teen-aged daughter and a successful husband.

"Oh quit it. You look fine." Nabiki said, smiling up at the taller woman.

Yuriko closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I hope so."

Nabiki placed her hand on the older woman's arm. "He won't care you know...what you look like, I mean. You can't even imagine how much it will mean to him that you're coming in the first place."

"Are you sure?" Yuriko asked. As happy as she'd been in the intervening years, she'd always wondered about her lost child; always felt like something was missing. Finding out what had happened to him had been nearly as painful as giving him away in the first place. When she'd first spoken to Sister Maria, she'd been directed to the police. The woman detective she'd spoken to had put her in touch with Tendo Nabiki, his girlfriend. That was when she'd found out about the gangs, and the drugs, and the Yakuza...and the shootings. He'd almost been killed several times, and was now facing life in prison. She was lucky to be married to Kyung. He'd been so supportive of her during the first couple of weeks. When she'd told Kimi that she had an older brother, she'd wanted to meet him right away. But that would have to wait.

"I'm sure." Nabiki said, a warm smile on her face.

A moment later, they heard the prison guards loud voice calling out, "Party for prisoner 71145, Tendo." Nabiki almost laughed. They were using her name for him, like they had in the hospital.

They looked at each other and took a deep breath. Nabiki went first, stepping into the room that was filled with glass partitions and phones. She spotted Keona immediately. Even three months in prison hadn't been enough to completely quench the fire in his bright green eyes. She beamed at him and sat down in front of his booth. Picking up the phone receiver on the wall, she held it to her ear. "Hey Kiki-baby."

"Hey." he said quietly. "How are you?"

Nabiki smiled. "I'm good. Have you thought about what we talked about a couple weeks ago?"

Keona let the phone fall from his ear for a moment, then lifted it back up. "Yeah, I thought about it." he said disdainfully.

"And?"

Keona shook his head. "Baby, I ain't no snitch. I can't do it."

Nabiki sighed. She was past the point of anger over his childish reticence to help the police. "Kiki, the Yakahito are not your friends. They tried to kill you...more than once. And they almost succeeded. Why are you protecting them?"

He frowned, his forehead creasing deeply. "I ain't fuckin' protecting them."

"Then what do you call it?"

"I ain't no snitch." he repeated.

"Kiki...I can't wait for you forever...think about that." Taking a deep breath and forcing a smile on her face, she said, "I brought someone to see you."

"Who?"

"Remember what we talked about last time?"

Keona nodded slowly, his eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I remember. Why?"

"She's here Kiki." Nabiki said softly.

"What do you mean she's here?"

"She's here. Hold on." Nabiki blew him a kiss and then stood up, holding the phone out to her left. A moment later, Nabiki was replaced by a beautiful woman wearing a kimono of the purest white, decorated sparsely with tiny cherry blossoms. Keona's breath caught in his throat as he gazed into her deep green eyes...his eyes.

Yuriko gasped softly as she laid eyes on her son for the first time in twenty-one years. He was as beautiful as he had been when she'd first held him in her arms, just after giving birth to him; more beautiful. He looked just like her. "K-Keona?" He nodded, and she saw his Adam's apple move up and down as he swallowed. "Oh Kami...I can't believe it...I've waited so long...I've prayed for so long." Yuriko said.

The woman's voice was barely above a whisper, but Keona heard her clearly despite it. Unthinking, he reached out a hand and placed it on the glass in front of him. Her much smaller hand reached up in kind, as if she could touch him through the barrier. And she felt as though she did. Keona couldn't speak. He let out one heart-wrenching sob, then choked his tears back. "Mom?"

Trying desperately to hold in her own tears, Yuriko smiled beatifically at her long-lost son. "Hi Keona...my name is Yuriko. I'm your mother."

"Mom." he repeated softly. And then the tears came. Tears that had been held inside since he'd been old enough to understand the pain that had caused them. But he wasn't crying for his pain. The pain was slowly bleeding out of him with each tear he shed, a warm, gentle glow replacing it inside of him.

Yuriko watched as her son cried wordlessly, drinking in the sight of him, letting the feeling of overwhelming love fill the empty space in her soul. "I found out what your name means Keona." She smiled tearfully as Keona nodded almost frantically, and she pressed her hand harder against the glass. "It's exactly what I thought you were when I first found out I was carrying you all those years ago." Canting her head to the side, tears spilling from her eyes, she whispered into the phone, "God's gracious gift." Clutching the phone like it was a lifeline, she said, "I've always loved you."

Glancing at Nabiki, who was standing behind his mother, Keona took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and nodded his head. The road of life was filled with detours, but for the first time since he could remember, Keona felt like he was finally traveling in a straight line. When at last the tears had ceased, and he'd found his voice, Keona said, "I'll see you when I get out of here. Put Nabiki back on for a minute, okay?"

Yuriko nodded her head, feeling whole for the first time in her life. She finally had her baby boy back, after all those long painful years. Handing the phone to Nabiki, she said, "I think he has something to say to you."

Nabiki took the phone and leaned over Yuriko's shoulder. "Hey Kiki-baby...you okay?"

Keona sniffed and wiped a hand across his eyes. Grinning broadly, he said, "I'm fine baby. I'm fine." He took a deep, cleansing breath. Letting it out, he stared into his love's eyes. "I'll call my lawyer tomorrow. We'll get that plea off, okay?"

"Okay Kiki." Nabiki replied, barely able to contain her joy. "You just tell them everything you can."

"I will. I promise you, I will. I'll see you in a few months...for real I mean. I'll see you in a few months."

"I'll see you in a few months." Nabiki said, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Casting her eyes towards the heavens, she mouthed, "Thank you mommy."


	16. Epilogue

San Diego, California. I'm lucky to be here. Not just lucky to be here; lucky to be alive. Lucky to be free. Shit, the only thing I ain't free of is Sato. Motherfucker followed me over to the States. At least he lives in L.A. Give's me a little space, you know?

It's been ten long years since I got out of prison. Takeda's trial wasn't long at all. Just a few months. I was out before he was arrested. The Yakahito-gumi collapsed after that. I did my part, and Takeda's right hand man did the rest; plea bargain for freedom, just like me. Best of luck to you Kokoru. But you can't get half as lucky as I have.

I have a mother now, and a little sister to go along with the older one. Kimi graduated with honors from Nekomi Tech with a degree in architectural engineering almost two years ago. She's been designing buildings for big corporations ever since. I have a father too. Still haven't paid for a car, although I'm stuck driving Koreans. That's okay though. Kyung's the closest to a real pop that I've ever had. I'll never talk shit about him. He did right by my mom when he met her, and he raised my little sister right. He's a good man. A better man than me.

Aiko got out of the NJ and moved to Yokosuka about seven years back, courtesy of a two million dollar payout in return for her raising my sorry ass. She married four years ago and has a two year old son. Better late than never, right?

Sato, like I said, moved to L.A. a couple years after me and Nabiki came to San Diego. He ain't married. He's a big-time sports agent. Dudes got seven clients in the NFL; has a different girlfriend every time he visits for Christmas.

Me? I married Nabiki when I was twenty-three. Our first daughter was born less than a year later. We named her Aiko, for my other sister. Michiko came two years after that. It's hard to believe, but they're eight and six now. They're both as American as can be, no matter how much their Aunties back in Japan (Aiko, Kasumi and Akane) try to remind them of their roots. I don't give a shit though. I have my three girls, and that's all that matters to me. Nabiki and our babies. Their happiness is my happiness.

As excited as mom was to find me again, she must have been even happier when she watched her granddaughters being born. Ol' Grandpa Tendo still cries like a little bitch every time he sees em' though. Ol' sissy. Seriously, I've got hardwood floors in my house man. I worry about that shit rotting out whenever he visits us in the States. Shit is expensive too...living on the beach in La Jolla ain't cheap. Heh, all that cash had to go to something, right?

I work now. Legit, I mean. I'm a youth counselor and a high school football coach. Some of the kids I work with come from rough neighborhoods, fucked up families. They ask me about my past sometimes. I guess the tattoos are kind of a give away, even over here in America. Of course, I never talk about the really bad shit...I mean, the killing and all that. But some of them know that I've been in prison. They know that I know about gangs, some of the violence and all that. It lends me a certain amount of credibility. They respect me for that. And that's the first thing you have to have when you're trying to deal with kids. You gotta have their respect. And it don't matter how young they are, you can't just expect it; you gotta earn it.

Yeah, life is good. Life is better than I ever thought it was going to be. Ten years ago, I thought I was going to die in jail. But somehow, someway, I made it. God ain't done much for me in my life, I've had to do it all myself. It's only reasonable to assume, after all, that if everything good is god's doing, then he's got his hand in all the shitty stuff too. But that's okay. Every bit of heartache and pain was worth it to get where I am today. Every time I kiss my wife good morning; every time I see a smile on my baby girls faces...it's all worth it.

Sometimes, when I'm all alone, or when it's just me and Sato hanging out, I remember the old days. Sometimes I wish that I could go back and change things. But if I did, I wouldn't have my wife. I wouldn't have my mother and my little sister (which isn't to say that I'm any less grateful for my big sister). I wouldn't have my daughters. And that would be unthinkable. My life turned out exactly the way it should have, even if I had to take a few back roads to get here.

I guess my point is this: don't ever have any regrets. You can't change the past, you can only change the future. Take what you've got and make something out of it. That's all you can do. If you spend all your time wishing you'd done things differently, you'll never have anything worth keeping. So mourn when you have to and grieve when the time is right, but let that shit go when it starts dragging you down. Life is meant for living man. That's all I got to say.

Peace, I'm out.

Tendo Keona-

* * *

Well...I guess that's it. It's over. End of story. Thanks for following along. Like Keona said...Peace, I'm out.

Joustingforcancer-


End file.
